Redemption: Come What May
by Xenopsyche
Summary: What was John Shepard's life like to forge him into the first human Spectre? What turns did his life take that encouraged him on this path? Who was the child who would grow up to become the beacon of hope for entire civilisations? This is pre-prequel of sorts to my other ME stories, setting up Shepard's character, motivations and experiences up to the point where the game's begin.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

 **[AN: Hello there, if this title looks familiar, that would probably be because this is the third time I've re-posted this story, because I've always got bogged down while writing it and by the time I get back around to it, I'm so horrified by the writing contained within, I'm forced to re-write it entirely and I've just found it easier to re-post.**

 **But no more! This will be the last time, and I will get it right!**

 **I'll be aiming to update this story once a day, and it has around 8 chapters, so it should be done in a week with any luck, two if I get distracted.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!/AN]**

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Prologue: ****What's the Worst that Could Happen?**

* * *

 **Systems Alliance Cruiser SSV** ** _Wellington_** **(September 25, 2157, 0430 Hours, Ship Time):**

"What the hell just happened, Juarez?" Lieutenant Hannah Shepard called out over the droning alarm tones and surprised mutterings of the rest of the crew.

She'd been at the ops station in the CIC during third shift when she felt the ship drop out of FTL. They still had another 7 hours until they reached their destination so if they had stopped then there must have been a reason; and the string of expletives coming from the bridge indicated that it was _not_ an intentional stop.

"I don't know lieutenant, the core just went offline; the techs must have broken something again," The pilot replied, the irritation in his voice clear.

"I'm on my way down to engineering, alert the Captain and fill him in on what's happened," she said before standing up and signalling for a junior officer to take over her position. Her carefully polished boots clicked sharply against the deck as she strode towards the elevator and selected the Engineering Deck.

As the XO of the _Wellington_ it was her job to fix any problems that cropped up while the Captain was off duty, and she had always believed in a 'lead from the front' methodology. Besides, she had previously trained as an engineer so she reasoned she may be of some use.

'What's the worst that could happen' she thought to herself.

She really should have known better.

* * *

Chaos greeted her as she stepped off the elevator, however it was chaos of a uniquely military kind.

Engineers rushed around the core, patching coolant conduits or attempting to solder loose wiring that had presumably been damaged by whatever had stalled the vessel. Everyone moved with a purpose and in the middle of it all stood Chief Engineer O'Hanlon, scanning through read-outs and performance logs from the core as they scrolled across his data pad's display, letting him coordinate the hive of activity around him.

Behind the main engineering room lay the _Wellington's_ massive Element Zero core, which, among other things, regulated the ship's mass, allowing it to maintain FTL flight. The core, usually humming from the vibrations that resulted from the passage of a current through it, was silent and still; a stark contrast to the activity surrounding it.

"Chief O'Hanlon, what's the word?" Shepard asked as she approached him, "Why is the core offline?"

"I don't know LT. We're trying to figure it out now," O'Hanlon replied, brows knotted in thought, "One minute, everything's normal then the current shuts off and the core stalls; I can't explain it. Our best guess is that it's these new Citadel-standard power couplings the Alliance just installed; the alien tech is probably causing problems with our components where we've tried to integrate them."

"Alright, do we still have the old power couplings? I know they're not quite as efficient but at least they worked. How long would it take to switch them over?"

"We do still have another set of good ol' fashioned, human-made couplings, but switching them out is fiddly work and even if our theory's right, they're not the immediate problem. Near as we can tell, power's still flowing through them just fine, the problem's in one of the other components," the Chief Engineer said as they pushed their way towards one of the main status diagrams, where a worrying amount of the usually calming blue lines that made up the image of the core and it's supporting infrastructure were now a harsh red or simply black. Hannah was having to call on all of her previous training and experience just to try and keep up with the rush of information the display provided.

"We're trying a few work-arounds to re-establish the power flow," O'Hanlon continued, gesturing to some of the locations and new connections that were appearing in real-time on the display, "so we can get the core back online and re-establish our kinetic barriers. That has to be our first priority seeing as a lone Alliance warship without shields out in the Traverse might be too tempting a target to pass up for some groups. Once we've got that sorted, then we can try and work out where the original fault started. Our escort wolf-pack can't know that we dropped out until they arrive at their destination, so it'll be at least half a day until they can get to us, assuming they can work out where we are with any sort of speed," he stated grimly, knowing the XO would be just as aware of the dangers as he was.

"Agreed, do whatever you have to to get the barriers back up. Let me know if there's anything that I can help with," Shepard agreed, nodding at his rather astute tactical observation.

A ship with no kinetic barriers or FTL capabilities would be a sitting duck by most standards, and that was not something that Shepard wanted to be while on patrol in the Attican traverse.

The Traverse is a volatile region of space bordering the Terminus Systems. While it is technically under Council protection, that doesn't stop the occasional pirate raid or mercenary group from causing trouble. The Terminus Systems are comprised of the territories of races and groups that don't recognise the Citadel Council or its laws. As such, it is a haven for mercenary groups, the black market, the slave trade and piracy, among other criminal enterprises, and that makes it a very dangerous region of space to be around if you can't protect yourself; and being this close was cutting it a little fine.

Humanity, being the new kid on the block, was doubly vulnerable. Technologically, they were still aging behind most other races in the galaxy by a good half a century, and much more than that in some cases. Even worse, their military was still small and dispersed over a quite large area, and while they'd made an impression by going toe-to-toe with the Turians, a lot of the Terminus' species would probably love to take a crack at them, if they thought they could get away with it.

Shepard was returning to the elevator so she wasn't taking up any more valuable space when the core unexpectedly hummed to life. A couple of cheers went up from the engineers around the room and a look of relief spread across O'Hanlon's face. That look was quickly washed away though when the sound coming from the core didn't plateau. Instead, the frequency continued to shift higher and higher, quickly reaching a painfully high level and sounding more like a keening wail than the usual deep hum.

Shepard and O'Hanlon locked eyes and their faces drained of colour. They both knew what that sound meant, everyone in the Alliance who spent any time at all on board a ship with a Mass Effect Core new what that sound meant, they'd been forced to listen to it during enough safety briefings after all, not that they'd ever expected to hear it in real life.

Core Overload.

Not good.

* * *

"I need all non-essential personnel out of here _now_!" Shepard shouted, attempting to raise her voice above the screaming Drive Core, "use the access hatches, the elevator will take too long. Come on people, let's move it!" She shouted, herding the general staff in the direction off the ladders and maintenance ways that connected the various decks of the Cruiser.

Just as she was counting off the last stragglers, she heard O'Hanlon calling to her over the din.

"Hannah, I hate to ask this off you, but we could use a hand! It's third shift so we're running on a skeleton crew as is, and I could use another trained engineer. You do still remember overload theory and procedures, don't you?"

"Just because I work on the Bridge now doesn't mean I forgot five years of work in the bowels of ships just like this!" She called back, then, noticing the last member of the general crew about to disappear into the hatchway, she called out to the Petty Officer.

"Pike, alert the captain, tell him that we have a probable Core Overload and that I'm assisting O'Hanlon and the Engineering team, but that I recommend he orders all non-essential crew to the life pods just in case."

"Y-Yes ma'am!" Came the reply after a brief double take at what she had just heard. Petty Officer Pike snapped off a quick salute to her XO, then dashed up the ladder.

By this point, the core itself began to pulsate, gaining mass then losing it in quick succession. Already, Hannah could feel the nauseating effect of this instability, her inner ear being pulled in every direction as it tried to align itself with the fluctuating gravitational axes.

All-in-all, she was rather glad for the anti-nausea medication she was on at the moment and she had no idea how the others were coping.

There had, of course, been training simulations that were intended to simulate such conditions, but nothing could quite prepare you for the feeling of trying to move while your weight kept shifting and your perception of where the floor should be shifted at random. It was difficult to move, let alone concentrate, but if they didn't stop this quickly, the ship would literally tear itself apart.

Of course, the tidal stresses involved put immense strain on the core as well. Soon, micro-fissures in its surface began to appear, releasing ultra-fine particulates of Element Zero. These minute particles seeped out through various cracks in the casing that contained the core and spread across the engine room, flung outwards by the shifting gravitational fields around the core.

Klaxons began to blare throughout the ship as the Captain ordered all hands to the life-pods. In engineering, the calm voice of the ships VI also sounded, alerting those present that the room had been contaminated with Element Zero. O'Hanlon didn't seem to notice as he worked feverishly at a nearby console, attempting to re-direct the charge flowing into the core. Shepard, however, did notice and was struck by a sudden pang of fear, but the groaning of strained metal as a support strut began to buckle forced her back into focus and she pushed her concerns away, focusing back on the more immediate threat.

"Hannah!" O'Hanlon hollered, struggling to make his voice heard above the sirens and the core, "I need you to eject the fuel lines that feed the reactor; we need to stop power from reaching the core!"

"That will leave us Dead in the Water!" She shouted back, and although she wasn't sure if he had actually heard her over the noise, he seemed to understand her objection.

"We don't have a choice, either we cut the power or the core overloads and destroys the ship. Being vulnerable beats being dead in my book!"

And he was right, they had maybe two minutes before the ship shook itself apart, less if the something happened to the ship's fusion reactor; a very real possibility at this point.

 _Of course,_ she thought to herself as she struggled towards the emergency manual disengage, _we probably don't even have half that time,_ a thought that was re-enforced when one of the other engineers, Michaels she thought, looked like he was plucked straight off the console he was at and flung into an equipment rack. He didn't get back up.

She finally managed to reach her destination, which had only been five meters away, breath heaving and only barely resisting the urge to empty her stomach all over the deck plating, or what she thought was the deck plating; she wasn't entirely sure any more.

Regardless, she fumbled with the release lock as another shift nearly pitched her forward, so she felt like she was hanging upside down on the side of a wall, before she finally got a grip on the lever.

"Okay, cutting fuel lines…now!"

The cacophony of noise coming from the core ceased almost immediately as lights and haptic interfaces within the room fell dark. Within seconds emergency backup power had kicked in and the ship was bathed in a dull orange-red glow.

Of course, with the loss of the Mass Effect Core, the ship also lost artificial gravity, because things weren't difficult enough as is. Shepard sighed heavily as she and O'Hanlon grabbed onto hand rungs sunk into the wall for exactly this kind of eventuality, the weightless feeling doing little to settle her stomach, but at least it was consistent now. Keying her radio to let the Captain know what had happened, she floated limply from the nearest hand rung and waited for the First-Responder team to arrive, acutely aware of the contaminated air she was now breathing while she waited.

* * *

 **Systems Alliance Cruiser SSV** ** _Wellington_** **(September 27, 2157, 0945 Hours, Ship Time):**

Hannah raised her head as she heard footsteps in the med-bay, approaching her cubicle. She had been confined to a bed for a week due to Element Zero exposure. As such, she had missed the frantic two days in which the crew had worked feverishly to get the _Wellington_ up and running again, restoring power and the core to full functionality, or as near as they could manage without a full overhaul and dry-dock facilities.

Shepard had cursed her inability to help them.

O'Hanlon had been allowed to leave three days prior, but she was on sick leave for an 'indefinite period of time until the Chief Medical Officer believes she can return to duty' as the official notice had put it.

Hers were rather special circumstances, after all.

"Good evening Hannah, how are you feeling today?" The _Wellington's_ CMO asked good naturedly. It was a routine that Shepard had grown quite used to in her time 'on leave', as it were.

" _I_ feel fine Doc, I just want to know if…" She trailed off, words catching in her mouth. If something was wrong then she might never forgive herself; she wasn't even sure how her husband would react.

"Well, I have good news for you; scans show absolutely no abnormality in the foetus and growth appears to be proceeding normally. Your child should be fine," he finished, with a sincere smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

A wave of relief hit Hannah, she felt her muscles relax and she exhaled deeply, releasing a subconsciously held breath. "Thank you doctor, that's great news. I was starting to get a little worried there," she said, though 'a little worried' may be in contention for the greatest understatement of the last decade.

"I believe you'll also be happy to hear that you may return to your duties whenever you feel fit, though I would strongly recommend some good meals with only light duty and lots of rest for at least the next couple of days, to help you fully regain your strength. You were lucky to only get off with only minor burns and a mild case of radiation poisoning."

"Of course doctor, though you have tasted the food they serve on this ship, right?"

The doctor chuckled as he considered just how accurate her assessment of the food was.

"Very well, nutritionally balanced meals then," he made to leave her cubicle to tend to his other patients, but turned towards her as he reached the curtain that separated her room from the med-bay. "Just one more thing, and I don't say this to alarm you, but I feel you should know; some studies have begun linking In-Utero exposure to Element Zero and the development of biotic abilities. We still don't know much about this phenomenon but it may be something to keep in mind," and with that thought and a quick nod, he left.

Hannah began to ready the few personal items she had in her cubicle in preparation for returning to normal duty. She was relieved that everything appeared to be normal with the child and that she was ready to go back to work, but a little voice in the back of her mind kept wondering if her child might develop biotic abilities, and if it did, then what would that mean for their family?

* * *

 **[AN: And there you have it, the first chapter.**

 **If you see any mistakes (spelling [note that I am Australian and so will be using British english, not American], grammar, lore, common sense, etc), or have any feedback please do tell me; it's hard to improve if you're not aware of your flaws, and I want to improve.**

 **Anyway, until the next chapter./AN]**


	2. Chapter 1: And so it begins

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Chapter 1: And so it begins...**

* * *

 **Arcturus Station, Barton Medical Clinic (January 18, 2159, 1320 Hours, Station Time):**

"Drake and Hannah Shepard, please continue down the corridor to Room C-8; Doctor Han has the test results for you to review," the synthesised voice of the clinic's VI came over the PA in the waiting room.

Humanity was still experimenting with Virtual Intelligence technology, but huge leaps and bounds were made after they began to integrate with the Citadel races. However, most of Arcturus station's VI's were already installed before contact was made with the galactic community two years ago and as such, the current suite of VI's was rather lacking and already slated for an overhaul, once the rest of the station was completed. It would take a couple more years before it was finished completely but it was already home to 8 000 permanent residents and the 'nexus of humanity' was a popular location with ship captains for shore leave; the shipyards allowing any ships, even the massive Dreadnoughts, to be refitted and repaired. As an added bonus, it was only one relay jump away from Earth.

Colonisation of other worlds had begun almost as soon as Humanity had found suitable candidates, Terra Nova, Demeter and Eden Prime most notably, but the vast majority of humans still live on Earth. The First Contact War with the Turians and the news footage of what was left of Shanxi had severely tempered people's enthusiasm for colonisation at first, but now that humanity had been accepted into the wider galactic community, people were starting to branch out again. Still, it would be a while before Colony life would be anywhere near a popular as living on Earth, so Arcturus' proximity was a definite bonus for many.

It certainly was for Drake, Hannah mused. While she didn't have much in the way of ties to Earth, despite a strong military tradition in her family, Drake had a large family that he loved to visit whenever possible and he made a point of it every time they had some leave time on Arcturus.

Service Chief Drake Matthew Shepard, 6ft tall, defined Eurasian features and a veteran of the First Contact War. He was also her husband of seven years.

They had first met at a recruitment day that the Systems Alliance had held at their College. Hannah was there because Military service was her family's favourite past-time, while Drake just thought it would be a good excuse to see something more than an overindustrialised Earth. They had gotten along surprisingly well, considering their seemingly clashing personalities; Drake was an optimist who couldn't hold a grudge if he tried, while she was far more reserved and calculating, with an admittedly fiery temper when provoked. Still, they must have balanced each other out, because one thing led to another and they found themselves happily married four years later, both pursuing different paths within the Alliance

A gentle squeeze of her hand brought her attention back to the present and the sharp blue eyes of her husband. If she were honest with herself, all this reminiscing was really just her way of masking the overwhelming anxiety that was gnawing away at her insides, and even though war and bloodshed had calloused them both somewhat over the years, Drake could still read her like an open book.

"Don't worry, whatever happens, we'll still be okay, John will still be okay," Drake whispered softly. "Come on, we shouldn't keep the good doctor waiting now, should we?" He questioned with a grin and stood up. Hand in hand they walked down the sterile, white corridor until they came to room C-8.

"Hannah, Drake, good to see you again, please come in and take a seat," Doctor Han greeted them with familiarity; they had been regulars for over a year now, after all.

After sliding into the well worn office chairs, the nervous couple waited for the news.

"The biopsy results came back and I am very happy to tell you that the growths in John's nervous system are definitely not cancerous and appear to be utterly benign."

Drake let out a sigh of relief, but Hannah knew something was still wrong.

"But…" Hannah prompted expectantly, gesturing for him to continue. While she was glad that the abnormalities weren't cancerous, she knew that there was more to the story; simply calling them to tell them the results would have sufficed, otherwise. She just wanted to know if there was anything wrong with John.

Doctor Han bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement and continued.

"…But the tests also confirmed that they are Eezo nodules, caused by your exposure to Element Zero during the incident on the _Wellington_ 16 months ago. Thankfully, your exposure was rather limited, so the nodules don't appear to be interfering with normal nerve functions or neurological activity; it does, however, mean that John may develop Biotic capabilities," he paused for a moment to allow the news to sink in.

"The Alliance is very interested in children with Biotic potential at the moment, it was only last year that we finally confirmed that humans even had biotic potential. The higher ups believe that we need to study human biotics in order to effectively compete with other races like the Asari, or the Turians…" there was an unmistakable bitterness in the doctor's tone whenever he mentioned the vaguely avian species, an animosity bred from the loss of number of his relatives during the brief occupation of Shanxi by the Turian Hierarchy. "Still, I am bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, so it's up to you if you let the Alliance know. And even if you do, they would still have to get your consent to use him in… whatever it is they're doing."

The news hit Hannah like a Cruiser at FTL. It was the situation she had feared most; cancer and neural damage could be treated and, in many cases, cured. Biotics though… biotics were something wholly new and alien, and with the Alliance's sudden interest in human biotic potential, Hannah found herself terribly conflicted.

More than anything she wanted to stay with John and let him grow up and have a normal childhood, let him live a normal life and watch as he grew up and started his own family one day. But with the recent spate of fear mongering and vitriol towards biotics as a whole and biotically gifted individuals in specific, she wasn't sure any of that would ever happen. She also had no idea what would happen if the Alliance decided they needed to conduct research on him, but it was quite certain that he would receive the furthest thing possible from a normal childhood in that situation.

On the other hand, she was an officer of the Systems Alliance Military, if her superiors believed that they needed to study biotic potential in humans, then who was she to say no?

She glanced over at Drake and she could see the same turmoil in his eyes. As a career soldier in the Marines, he felt the conflict of family or duty as strongly as she did.

Dr Han continued speaking, pushing past the disconcerting quiet that had settled in the room.

"John has a very limited number of the nodules, and current research suggests that there is a link to the number of nodules and an individual's biotic capabilities. You wouldn't need to worry about him potentially harming anyone in a fit of rage or anything; all biotics need special amplifiers to effectively utilize the ability, even the Asari are quite weak without amplifiers, and their entire race is naturally biotic. Believe me, he will not be a danger to anyone and his biotic potential could very well be minimal; I just thought you should have all of the facts. I'll leave you two alone for awhile to discuss this, just ask the VI if you require assistance," he finished with an awkward nod as he slipped through the door that separated his office from the main hallway, leaving the Shepard's alone with their thoughts.

* * *

Hannah and Drake sat there in silence for the better part of five minutes, neither knowing precisely what to say. It was Drake that spoke first.

"We both knew this was a possibility, if nothing else we should be thankful that it wasn't something worse-"

"Worse! What could be worse than this?!" Hannah shouted, her previously repressed emotions finally boiling over after weeks of tension.

She stood up and began to pace while continuing her emotional outpouring.

"John isn't even a year old and we already have to decide his fate! It's not fair! It's not fair for us and it's _definitely_ not fair for him! And all because I tried to play the hero," she moaned as she slumped back into her chair, the tension she had felt leading up to this point, all of the stress and anxiety, flowing out as she began to cry quietly, struggling in vain to retain some semblance of dignity.

For his part, Drake simply watched and listened; relieved that she was finally releasing the burden she had been carrying. He got off his chair and kneeled down next to hers, placing a hand on her knee and rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

"You know what's not fair? You, blaming yourself for this. You didn't _try_ to play the hero, you _were_ the hero. You helped save everyone aboard the _Wellington._ I know this isn't an easy decision, but I will stand by you, whatever choice you make. You are my wife, and I made a couple of promises to you that I plan on keeping," he stated firmly, the conviction evident in his tone. "I'm also not stupid enough to go against my superior officers wishes; I have a career to think about," he whispered in her ear with a grin on his lips

His last comment got a derisive snort from Hannah.

"Please, you follow orders about as well as John walks at the moment."

After another brief period of silence, she looked over at him, the beautiful, compassionate man that was her husband, and a small, genuine smile graced her lips.

"Thank you, for standing by me. I just feel like this is my fault, that I put us in this position. It isn't exactly fair on you, and I –"

"Never think that, _ever_. This is _not_ your fault," Drake interrupted with a rarely seen forcefulness, his eyes begging her to understand. "If you had of stepped back and tried to save your own skin instead of saving the ship and going so far above your duty to help everyone else, then you wouldn't have been the woman I fell in love with. I choose to be at your side whatever happens, not because it would be easy, but because it would be worth it. Sure, this is a bad situation, but what would you be thinking now if you had of let someone else do the job you did? What if the core _had_ of overloaded and destroyed the ship? You made the right choice, but sometimes the right choice doesn't get the perfect happy ending."

"You're pretty eloquent when you want to be, for a jarhead," she grumbled, accepting his logic and letting her previous thoughts fade to the background, for the moment at least. Sighing, she sat up straight and wiped away the remaining tear tracks that had wound their way down across her cheeks.

"Okay, we don't tell the Alliance. John stays with us, he gets to live a normal life; no one ever needs to know that he could be a biotic. He can just have a normal life, with us. Is that alright, with you?"

His beaming smile answered for him.

They laughed and cried and hugged, fluctuating between the three states as they finally released all of their fears and concerns and anxiety, and began to look forward to a future together with their son.

* * *

 **Arcturus Station, Systems Alliance Primary Education Facility Wing D (November 7, 2167, 1730 Hours, Station Time):**

Like many things that the Systems Alliance had constructed in its early days, Arcturus Station's Public School was not gifted with an imaginative name.

As a result it was quickly renamed by the pupils who attended it.

The Systems Alliance Primary Education Facility (SAPEF) had become APE, which the kids quickly (and erroneously, but no-one had the heart to tell them) translated to Monkey and within six months the school was almost universally recognised as 'The Monkey House', which, considering the remarkably large (artificial) park and Jungle Gym present at its centre, wasn't entirely inaccurate.

Originally, Arcturus Station had been planned as a centralised Command/Control Station for the Alliance, housing the Parliament, shipyards and most of its military and intelligence services. As such, the need for a school hadn't been factored in. But with the sudden influx of men and women after First Contact and the Alliance's rather relaxed position on Marriage between members of the service, it found there was a significant demand for children's education. The result was one of the most modern schools in Citadel Space (even if it had one of the most uninspiring official names in Citadel Space).

It was here that the first full generation of human 'Spacers', those who have lived their whole lives in space, grew up and went to school; one John Shepard included.

"Ah, Mr and Mrs Shepard, please come in and take a seat. I trust your most recent deployment went well, Hannah?" John's teacher asked as she ushered them inside the brightly coloured classroom, its walls adorned by the children's artistic attempts and streamers from a recent party.

"All quiet on the Western Front as usual, Sonia. How has the class been?" Hannah replied in good humour.

Sonia Hartmeyer had been John's teacher for the past four years and so the Shepard's had gotten to know her quite well. She was, in fact, reasonably well known in the field of cross-cultural studies and psychological development but had jumped at the opportunity that the teaching position provided, both as an extension of her field and, as she said, she 'just loved children'.

"The class has been wonderful… mostly; you know how children can be sometimes. All of them are so excited for the holidays, as I'm sure you can see," she said as she gestured grandly towards the various pictures arrayed around the room, ranging in style from computer generated images to old-fashioned crayon drawings.

"It looks like you've got a couple of Picasso's in your class and maybe even a Van Gough or two; or is that more of a Dali…?" Drake quipped with a smirk gracing his lips as he carefully lowered his solid frame into the small chair.

"And while I regret to inform you that John is not among those, he certainly has skills in other areas," Sonia replied with her own smirk, not missing a beat. "He's been excelling in physical activities and he has a knack for logic problems and lateral thinking, always puzzling over some new riddle or optical illusion during free time. He does appear to be a bit isolated from his peers at times, but I think that has more to do with his rapid mental development, and he certainly isn't being bullied; his height sees to that."

 _She's right,_ Hannah thought to herself, _for whatever reason, John's nearly 10cm taller than the next kid; he basically towers over the rest of his class._

"Eh, I was an early bloomer myself; I'd bet he'll balance out by High School," Drake commented with a shrug.

"There is one behavioural point I did want to bring to your attention, though; John doesn't react well when things are taken out of his control. If he has a plan set out and one of the other kids does something that deviates from that plan, he will either retreat from the others and withdraw into himself, or he will… 'erupt', for want of a better term. I think it's largely tied to his rather advanced mental development compared to his peers and as such it should resolve itself in time, but I would suggest you keep a close eye on it to make sure it doesn't develop into a fixation on control or a source of significant anxiety for him, particularly in the teenage years," Sonia explained, slipping into the familiar role of developmental advisor that had been her longest standing job before entering academia.

Both Hannah and Drake nodded carefully as they processed this information, thinking back to see if there had been situations they had seen that fit the description.

In hindsight, they could definitely see what Sonia was referring to.

"What about his grades?" Drake asked, curious as ever about his son's academic potential.

"The same as usual, nothing overly spectacular, but he does appear to be becoming more and more bored with what he's being taught. It's not affecting his work in any obvious way, but I suspect he could be doing much better if he really wanted to, not that it would actually impact anything at this age. But it does lead us on to my main point that I wanted to discuss with you; his IQ result."

Drake and Hannah exchanged a quick glance before turning their full attention back to Sonia. IQ tests were a compulsory part of the Systems Alliance's schooling program and they began in their fourth year and carried onto until graduation, in an effort to plot any possible effects that the unique 'Spacer' lifestyle might have on the students. It was also used to shortlist possible candidates for officer positions in the Military once they had finished school.

"He scored very highly, 138 to be precise. It's just shy of Genius level and puts him in the top two percent of the human population. This level of intelligence would explain many of his behavioural quirks and it means he will have a lot of potential when he reaches the secondary education system; in fact I'd almost guarantee that he'll be offered the chance to study on board a ship with you on your tours of duty. In the mean time, I would encourage the self-guided aspect of his learning; let him research things on the extranet and try different skills and hobbies until he finds something that really grabs his attention."

Drake smiled happily at the revelation while Hannah nodded in surprise as she processed her son's intellectual potential; it certainly explained his insatiable appetite for knowledge. She'd have to set up a (well filtered) Extranet account for him over the holidays.

"Well, now that the official stuff is out of the way I've got half an hour until my next appointment, so how about we catch up over coffee and you can ask me any more questions you might have once I have some caffeine in my system again?" Sonia asked happily, already knowing what the answer would be.


	3. Chapter 2: Making a Name

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Chapter 2: Making a Name**

* * *

 **[AN: So, I got distracted.**

 **Valkyria Chronicles was on sale on Steam and I decided to try it out. I was rather surprised with how much I enjoyed it, even if it did have a negative effect on my writing speed.**

 **Regardless, here's the next chapter, I hope you all enjoy it. /AN]**

* * *

 **Systems Alliance Carrier SSV** ** _Einstein_** **(February 3, 2170, 0900 Hours, Ship Time):**

John was fascinated by the _Einstein_ , he'd never been on such a huge ship! He'd seen Dreadnoughts and Carriers before when they docked at Arcturus, but he'd never been inside one and now he was going to live on one for the next 18 months!

His mum was one of two XO's onboard, (a ship this massive required an enormous crew to run it, which required two Executive Officers plus the Commanding Officer to manage all of the shifts effectively) and his dad would be joining the Marine platoon onboard in a couple of weeks; he couldn't wait to have his whole family around for a change.

At the moment, he and the dozen other kids whose families were also stationed on the kilometre long ship were being given a tour; being told where they could go and where they couldn't, a rundown of evacuation procedures, shift changes, how to get things from the mess halls and what was expected from their studies. Okay, so overall it wasn't the most fascinating tour, but John didn't care, he was going to be living on an active warship! A Carrier! For the next 18 months! It was so cool!

After the rather long tour, he returned to his mom's cabin to make sure all his stuff was ready for school tomorrow. All things considered, it wasn't really school like he remembered from Arcturus, there were way fewer kids and they didn't have a proper teacher, not like Miss Hartmeyer, but they still got to learn stuff and they even got to choose what they studied some times; the teacher had called it 'self-guided learning'.

Flicking on his datapad, John opened up the book they were going to be studying in history in a couple of weeks. Herodotus' _The Histories_ was a fascinating book, if a bit hard to understand at points, but once you stripped away the mysticism and less relevant tangents you had a very solid history of the Greco-Persian Wars; though, if he were honest, he kinda wished there was more detail about the military strategy used in the battles.

Settling into his small bed, he quickly engrossed himself with his reading.

* * *

 **Systems Alliance Carrier SSV** ** _Einstein_** **(March 12, 2170, 1420 Hours, Ship Time):**

A month later and John had mostly settled into life on-board a starship. He still missed the parks and nature domes that featured so strongly on Arcturus, but the extra freedom and the chance to be around his family so much more than made up for it. And the other kids were really cool too; they were just as interested in the ship as he was.

He was one of the youngest on board at the moment, being just shy of twelve, but all except for the oldest kids were taught by the same teacher, in the same room, so he got to know the eight other kids around his age quite well.

But as interesting as his schooling was, what John really loved about life on the _Einstein_ was the time he could spend exploring the ship. Even five weeks after coming aboard, he still hadn't seen half of the decks.

He loved having the opportunity to talk to some of the crew at mealtimes and the class trip to the Fighter hangars was pretty much the highlight of the last month.

Watching the Marines train with his Dad was awesome and he'd even let him come down and see the armoury with him once, showing him how they looked after their gear; he even promised to take him down to the shooting range (just to watch, mind you) sometime after his upcoming birthday.

But his favourite place to visit were the engineering decks, all five of them. The air felt like it was alive on those decks, with the reactors and the enormous Mass Effect Core always running. There was something mesmerising about the core, about the way it pulsed and hummed, and John always liked to imagine he could feel the dark energy warping around it, no matter how stupid it sounded.

It wasn't long before he started to want to know more about all of the technology; what it did, why it was important, how did it work? His dad laughed and said he must have gotten it from his mum, but he found a couple of the engineers who were happy to give him a run-down of the systems. Soon, John became a regular visitor to Engineering, always curious. He did his best to stay out of the way (not that he always succeeded), but the engineering crew didn't mind as a whole and some of them loved seeing as kid who was almost as interested in engines and power systems as they were.

* * *

 **Systems Alliance Carrier SSV** ** _Einstein_** **(September 24, 2170, 1945 Hours, Ship Time):**

Classes were on break at the moment, so John had organised with a couple of his friends to play one of their favourite games. It was a real-time strategy game based on World War Two back on Earth during the mid-20th Century and it was one of a handful of games provided on-board for the crew to enjoy when they weren't on duty. For this particular game, the map was set in coastal France, near a small village. The recreation of the cool, wet climate was fantastic, with lush foliage dotting the field of battle and low, grey clouds laden with rain slowly marching across the sky.

He had challenged three of his friends, Hayden, Natalie and Kwan, to a 3v1 game. Hayden and Kwan were both pretty good players in their own right but Natalie was the real challenge. She was practically a chess prodigy and she was unbeaten within their class and even amongst the adults who had challenged her. She could read her opponents brilliantly and she knew every possible move set, but that only added to the fact that she was a really good at thinking up strategies and executing them.

John had never really liked chess, it was too static for him. He could still play reasonably well, but he didn't like how limited his options were with moves or units. He much preferred the dynamic strategy games, like the one he was playing now. He loved the way he could manipulate the battlefield and his units own strengths and weaknesses compared to his opponent's.

They were partway through the game currently and he was in his element. He had wiped Hayden out twenty minutes into the (so far) two hour game, by eliminating his Command/Control units with an APC assisted Commando strike that blitzed passed his sporadic defences, and he was just now polishing off the last of Kwan's units and infrastructure after dissecting his attempt at a flanking manoeuvre and then driving a tank column up into his base.

All that he had to do now was eliminate Natalie.

* * *

Natalie had expected her team mates would fall, John was really good at this game after all, so she had built up her base defences heavily and focused on providing indirect fire-support for Hayden and Kwan's assaults, while preparing her units for a counter attack when John made his move.

Natalie had been planning on launching a strike against his base when he made his first major offensive, but since his first attack on Hayden's base had consisted of no more than two APC's filled with infantry, she didn't risk an attack when most of his units were still defending his base. When he moved his defenders up to support his mechanised assault on Kwan's position, she seized the chance and rushed her own tank formation up to his base, with a trio of fighter-bombers on station, ready to level any particularly dangerous defences he might have set up.

Imagine her surprise when her units swept into his base to find no resistance and little in the way of infrastructure.

* * *

John smiled to himself as he watched Natalie send her units right into his carefully prepared trap. Little did she know, he had left recon units along the roads to his base and he was glad to see that she had acted exactly as he had expected. Even now she was spreading her units out through his empty base, looking for any sign of his location. The other thing she didn't know, was that his infantry units that had been defending the base hadn't left to support the tank column (he had other units for that), they had left to lure her in.

Oh, and to clear the blast zone…

What none of his friends had anticipated was that John had abandoned his starting base and rigged it with explosives as he set up his actual base in a far more remote and defensible spot. He had arranged most of his units in a standard defensive pattern around the original base and that _really_ should have been a dead give-away that he was up to something, John didn't really _do_ 'standard' with this sort of thing, but they never picked up on his strangely normal tactics.

* * *

Natalie yelped in shock as she watched 90% of her combat units disappear in a grand sequence of explosions that ripped through John's false base, taking her units with them. She then stared in horror as an infantry force twice the size of her remaining battered and disoriented troops opened fire from concealed positions at her rear and put down the last of her soldiers. Her entire force that she had spent two hours building up and preparing for this assault had just been eradicated in under ten seconds.

Reflexively, she ordered her aircraft to carpet bomb the forest where John's ambush units had been, only to see all three of them intercepted by fighters and ground based mobile AA before they had gotten more than a third of the way across the map. With a sudden jolt she realised her entire base was all but undefended; her only consolation being that John's main force was still over by the remains of Kwan's base and would take a while to finish mopping up there and reach her position.

She waited for ten minutes, requisitioning more units with what little time she had left, but the expected attack didn't come.

After fifteen minutes, she had some semblance of an offensive force again to complement her now notable defences but still the attack hadn't come.

 _"_ _What are you waiting for Johnny, scared a girl will beat you?"_ She goaded via the in-game chat, hoping to provoke some sort of action from him. Annoyingly, she didn't get the response she expected.

 _"_ _Nope, I'm waiting…"_ She starred impatiently at the screen, waiting for the next part to come through and wondering exactly what he was up to, only to jump in fright as the crack of thunder roared through her headset and heavy rain sheeted down across the battlefield.

 _"…_ _for that. Nice try, Nat."_

She gasped in realisation as his plan finally unfurled. With the rain and lightning obscuring her unit's targeting, her carefully positioned ranged fire would be useless; his units could practically walk in under the cover of the rain and be right on top of her defences. Sure enough, artillery shells began to rain down on her base, sending her units into chaos and blowing apart numerous machine gun positions and pill boxes. Infantry, supported by tank fire rapidly moved towards her defensive perimeter. Her remaining units put up a valiant fight, inflicting heavy casualties, but that small hope was lost when the deep thumping of plane rotors became audible over the booming thunder. Suddenly the sky above her base was filled with parachutes as paratroopers rained down inside her sprawling base's perimeter, precisely eliminating defensive position after defensive position and allowing the rest of his units to push forward unmolested.

The entire assault was over in less than five minutes.

 _"_ _Good game guys. Nat, your defences were way better than I expected, I wasn't sure I could actually get through them. See you tomorrow?"_

She was still too surprised to reply, he had planned everything around how he figured she would react and then let the variability of battlefield sweep him to victory. She hadn't even thought of checking the weather, but he had built his plan around a thunderstorm!

 _"_ _Nat?"_

She had thought this would be a pretty easy game, three on one and all that. Plus he had never managed to beat her at chess.

 _"_ _Hello? Nat, you okay?"_

'I'll have to ask him how he did it at some point, maybe tomorrow,' she thought to herself and she was about to ask exactly that when she saw the string of somewhat worried questions directed at her.

 _"_ _Oh, yeah I'm fine, sorry, didn't see your messages. Sure, cya tomorrow."_

With that, she hastily logged out and climbed into bed, thinking about the game she had just played.

* * *

Little did John know, it wasn't only Natalie who had been impressed by his game. He didn't know that every game played on the ship's servers was recorded by the Alliance so it could be monitored. These kids were, after all, among the most likely to go into the military when they grew up, so having an idea of their capabilities at this early age was a huge bonus. And as one analyst settled in to watch another replay of the game, they couldn't help but think that it might have paid off in a big way this time.


	4. Chapter 3: Cruel Realities

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Chapter 3: Cruel Realities**

* * *

 **Systems Alliance Carrier SSV** ** _Einstein_** **, in Orbit around Mindoir (May 16, 2171, 1320 Hours, Ship Time):**

Twelve hours ago, everything in John Shepard's routine life had been turned on its head.

Twelve hours ago, the _Einstein_ and her Battlegroup had been diverted to the human colony of Mindoir after a series of frantic distress signals had been broadcast from the small colony.

The _Einstein_ and her numerous escorts had arrived four hours later to find the colony being swarmed by a sizable force of Terminus System pirates; specifically, Batarian Slavers.

Diplomatic Relations with the Batarians had been tense at best since Humanity came onto the Galactic Scene and began to rapidly expand into the Skyllian Verge, a largely unexploited region of the Galactic Arm that happened to include both Earth and Khar'shan, the Batarian's homeworld. In protest the Batarians closed their embassy on the Citadel and effectively shut themselves off from the rest of the Galaxy.

Ever since, the Batarian Hegemony had been waging a shadow war against the Alliance by sponsoring the illegal acquisition of sentient labour.

In other words, slavery.

Slavery was heavily frowned upon in Citadel Space, the Batarians being the only species to maintain the practice due to their rigid caste system that was entrenched into their social and cultural heritage and largely relied upon the servitude of the lower castes, thus giving them a loophole to continue the practice. But ever since they had cut ties with the Citadel races they had become a prominent and powerful player in the thriving slaving community within the Terminus Systems. It didn't take long for them to discover that humans made great slaves and that human colony's were easy targets.

Ironically enough, it was the same rapid expansion that had so enraged the Batarian Hegemony that made Alliance Colonies such soft targets. Because the rapid expansion also meant that the Alliance's forces were spread very thin and only the largest and most important human colonies had any sort of permanent garrison. The rest relied instead on semi-regular naval patrols to discourage pirate incursions, and this technique was becoming less and less effective as more colonies were founded closer and closer to the edge of Council Space where Terminus-based pirate groups often stalked, looking for easy prey.

Mindoir was not the first and it certainly wouldn't be the last human colony to be hit by Batarian slavers, but history would later record it as being one of the worst.

When the Battlegroup arrived in-system, they immediately demanded the surrender of the Terminus forces and the release of their captives. This order was completely ignored by the pirates, in favour rabbiting to FTL or vainly attempting to buy their forces on the ground time by engaging the outnumbered but substantially better equipped Alliance force.

The Naval battle was quick and decisive; four out-dated Cruisers and a dozen equally antiquated Frigates plus an assortment of fighters and corvettes was simply no match for an organised, state-of-the-art Carrier Battlegroup, with two Heavy Cruisers, one Scout Cruiser and a four Frigate Wolfpack, not to mention the _Einstein_ herself and her myriad fighters and interceptors.

Unfortunately, despite their naval superiority, there was little that could be done on the ground.

The _Einstein's_ full complement of marines, two platoons worth, were immediately dispatched to the colony once her fighters had taken control of the skies, but it was on the ground that the pirates' numbers really played to their advantage. The marines encountered intense resistance from the largely Batarian force that was slowly withdrawing from the Colony and because the Slaver's had set up their base in the centre of the colony, it was too risky to use orbital strikes or even fighter-launched precision guided munitions, so it was left to the ground troops to secure the colony.

To save time and as revenge for their destroyed fleet, the pirates began to slaughter their captives in the dozens, sparing only those who showed real promise as slaves and were subsequently forcefully and traumatically implanted with neural control chips… without any type of anaesthetic… and using a pressure gun to ram it into their skulls.

Despite their best efforts, the Marines simply couldn't reach the colonists being massacred before their eyes and they incurred heavy casualties in their attempts before the slavers had loaded their 'cargo' onto their remaining shuttles and jumped to FTL as soon as they were able.

Of course, twelve year old John Shepard had no idea about any of this, all he knew was that there had been an attack on a human colony that they were going to go help and that class was cancelled for the foreseeable future.

* * *

Another day later and the reality of the situation had fully sunk in.

About sixty refugees, the only survivors from the Mindoir, were taken aboard the _Einstein_ , seeing as it was the largest ship present and the only one equipped to take a large number of extra passengers.

That was sixty people from a colony of one and a half thousand; it didn't take an individual with John's IQ to work the horrific human cost of the raid.

John had never seen so much suffering before. Of course he had seen News coverage of natural disasters and the occasional report on a pirate raid; but to see it personally… it made him feel sick.

The kids had all been diverted to helping care for the refugees, mainly assisting in the med-bay or mess hall and some of the older ones were drafted in to help take care of the surviving kids, particularly the ones who had lost their parents. John was one of the ones helping in the med-bay, mainly fetching supplies and preparing beds. He and the others were always quickly ushered out if something serious started happening, but John wasn't an idiot, he knew that not everyone who made it to the ship had or would survive and the curtains between beds couldn't stop him from hearing the sobbing of colonists.

He also saw the cost of the raid in his dad. He had been on the ground and whatever he had seen down there wasn't something he was willing to talk about. He put on a smile whenever John was around, but he knew it was fake; it never reached his eyes. His dad had always been so lively and spontaneous that seeing him like this was almost too much for the younger Shepard to handle.

One day, about a week after the raid, he got up the courage to ask what was wrong.

"You always were perceptive John," Drake chuckled ruefully and tousled his hair, but it all seemed a little forced.

Seeing that his son was still waiting for an answer to his question, he sighed and continued.

"It's not something that I can explain, even your Mother wouldn't quite understand; and frankly I hope neither of you ever do. I guess you could say it's a Marine thing."

"Then why are you a Marine?" John asked curiously. Surely if something caused you so much pain, you'd stop doing it.

"Because someone has to. Someone has to be there to protect the ones that can't protect themselves. And I have the skills to be a Marine, a good Marine, so it's my duty to take up that position. You're still too young to be thinking about these sought of things though, just know that the Galaxy can be a really ugly and dangerous place at times but there are always people ready to stand against that."

John didn't know what to say, so he nodded his head vigorously in understanding before scurrying back to his room to mull over what his dad had told him.

* * *

 **Arcturus Station, Systems Alliance Marine Corps Memorial Ground (May 3, 2174, 0820 Hours, Station Time):**

John could barely contain his emotional turmoil as he approached the sealed coffin with the Systems Alliance Flag draped precisely over it. It was next to three identical coffins, each bearing the names and remains of a fallen marine.

The one he stood in front of had 'Operations Chief Drake Shepard' carefully etched into a golden plaque.

His father.

It had been two days since they had received the visit that no military family ever wants to receive. Apparently, his Dad's squad had been investigating reports of a pirate base set up on a small moon in the Hercules System, and sure enough, they had found the base. It appeared to be deserted, and closer inspection revealed it was.

Except for the demolition charges. The _incendiary_ demolition charges.

The blast killed four marines instantly and seriously wounded two more.

Drake Shepard was among the dead.

John reached out to comfort his mum as she quietly approached the metallic cocoon that contained her husband's physical remains. She was wearing her full dress uniform, as befit her rank as Captain, but it was not as crisp as it would normally have been, her numerous pins and medals slightly askew in their mounts; but the lack of decorum was easily overlooked, given the circumstances.

She had kept a careful, stoic facade in public over the last two days, doing her utmost not to let her subordinates see her grief and anger and pain. She even tried to hide it from John, though she wasn't very successful.

But now, as she stood before the coffin of her husband of twenty years, she couldn't keep her emotions bottled up any longer. She began to weep quietly next to the coffin, Drake's beloved Marine Corps beret clutched tightly in her hands.

John stood and held her, comforting his normally iron-willed mother as she poured out her grief. This continued for five, ten, fifteen minutes and still John stood silently, giving her the support she so desperately needed.

He remembered the words his Dad always spoke to him before he deployed on a new assignment, ever since the Mindoir raid:

 _"_ _If anything happens to me John, I need to know you'll take care of your Mum for me. Can you promise me that?"_

Every time, he asked the same question and every time, John gave the same response; _"I promise."_

Only now did he fully appreciate what his father had meant. So he stood, and he waited.

His grieving would come later, but at the moment his Mum needed him, so he would be there for her.

And he'd be damned before he broke the last promise he ever made to his Dad.

* * *

 **Arcturus Station, Systems Alliance Marine Corp Head Office (April 11, 2176, 1415 Hours, Station Time):**

John took a deep, calming breath, before he strode purposefully towards the Marine Recruitment Office.

It was his 18th birthday and his mother had taken leave in order to allow them to celebrate it on Arcturus Station. So far, they'd spent much of the morning doing just that. First, they had gone to one of the many cafés on the station where John developed a true appreciation for what food should be; good food tastes even better when you've spent the last couple of years living off military cooking (he put it down to the use of fresh ingredients and a chef who actually knows how to cook).

After the breakfast they returned to the hotel room they were staying in to open the presents.

There were the usual presents from family members, mainly consisting of e-books, vids and Credits, and one of his older cousins had sent him a bottle of genuine Mexican tequila, much to his mother's chagrin.

There were also a number of presents from the crew of the _San Jose_ , the cruiser that Hannah currently captained.

Most of the crew knew that he intended to join the Marines and their gifts reflected that; a pair of all-weather boots, some waterproof parkas, even an Advanced Combat and Small Unit Tactics handbook with the card simply saying that he 'may as well start reading it now'.

John smiled at the vote of confidence that the book represented.

That handbook was only distributed to Officers who were to chosen lead Special Forces teams, part of the elite N school of training, which also immediately narrowed down the list of people that it could have come from; he'd be sure to thank them in person soon enough.

His favourite gift from the crew, however, was one that all of the marines on board had chipped in for and it consisted of a set of armour pouches that provided room for extra stim-packs, rations, water, ammo-blocks and medi-gel without compromising armour integrity or adding extra bulk; an 11 inch ceramic and titanium combat knife with a mono-molecular tungsten carbide blade and his name engraved into its hilt along with a correspondingly effective sheath and, finally, a standard issue Combat Helmet, designed to work with almost all of the Alliance's armours, with targeting upgrades in the HUD as well as a program that kept track of combat statistics, allowing the user to review them later. Inside the helmet all of the marines had signed their names and the inside of the jaw section was engraved with 'Reconnaissance Marines, 23rd Division'.

The Alliance was always happy for new recruits to bring their own equipment, so long as it was up to specifications, however they did not allow people to bring their own firearms and they were very strict with what armour and weapon modifications were allowed, mainly due to safety concerns; raw recruits running around with heavy rifles upgraded with scram-rails was a recipe for disaster. The crew were well aware of this and managed to provide John with a suite of gear that would not break any regulations but functioned better than the basic gear he would have otherwise been issued. Just as importantly, it wasn't anything flashy or expensive, just standard gear that had been given the 'personal touch' by his friends, experienced in what was required to be a marine.

Now he stood at the gateway to joining their ranks. He walked through the door and up to the Lieutenant manning the recruitment desk.

Shepard kept running over what he would say in his head; he did, after all, want to make a good first impression. He reached the desk and stood up as straight as his spine would allow.

"Sir, I would like to enlist for Officer Candidacy in the Systems Alliance Marine Corp."

The Lieutenant on the other side of the desk cocked his head to the side slightly as he appraised the surprisingly eager rookie in front of him.

"Relax boy, you're not a marine yet. You want to be an Officer, huh? Then let's see your papers," he waited expectantly while John quickly handed over the folder containing his Birth Certificate, Academic Records and Letters of Recommendation.

"Okay, so you are John Shepard, son of Operations Chief Drake Shepard, now deceased, and Lieutenant Commander Hannah Shepard, formerly Hannah Schofield, born on the 11th of April 2158?"

Shepard nodded in affirmation and waited as the data was inputted into the system and verified.

After logging the last of the information into the system, he scanned over the remaining documents.

After a few minutes (which felt much longer to John) he placed the documents down and looked back at John.

"Your academic results are impressive, and your physical results and aptitude scores are certainly high enough. They alone would likely get you admittance, but the fact that you've got two divisions of Marines to vouch for you as well? That's impressive; they must really see something in you," the Lieutenant said as he looked John up and down once more, then extended his hand.

"Welcome to the Marines, kid."


	5. Chapter 4: Separating Wheat and Chaff

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Chapter 4: How do you Separate Wheat from Chaff?**

* * *

 **Systems Alliance Heavy Frigate SSV** ** _Gallipoli_** **, Brahe System (October 18, 2177, 0810 hours, Colony Time):**

"Pick up the pace up marines, we'll be entering Akuze's orbit in 5 minutes! Get your gear stowed and your weapons locked!" the Commander ordered, explaining as he went, "Alpha team will be taking the shuttle down once we're in orbit. The _Gallipoli_ will go groundside 15 minutes after that, then you move!"

Commander Mitchell Hynes surveyed the Hangar Deck, watching as the fifty marines under his command prepped for landing; variously checking and securing their weapons, loading their packs with rations, medi-gel and weapon mods or sealing their hard suits and checking systems and barrier functionality.

It was a varied group, as was common on these mission.

The Alliance couldn't afford to dedicate a Company's worth of trained marines and ships solely for responding to anomalous occurrences on their numerous colonies and instead threw together teams from a variety of specialties when such events occurred. The Akuze mission was pretty standard in that respect; it was comprised mainly of the usual 'meat' of the Alliance ground forces; A, B and C code marines, General Infantry Riflemen, Arm's Masters and Reconnaissance respectively, with each squad lead by an early grade N code Officer, the Special Forces vocation within the Alliance, with support from a squad of F code Combat Engineers and a tank crew manning their Grizzly IFV.

Pleased with his inspection, Hynes nodded approvingly as they moved purposefully, preparing for mission ahead.

They were ready to go.

* * *

Hynes stepped into the shuttle to find Alpha team already there. They were ten of the most senior men and women in the platoon. It was mostly experienced NCO's, but there were a couple of N4's that Hynes had specifically requested .

As well as being it's Commanding Officer, Hynes was also the only N7 in the platoon. That wasn't much of a surprise given how rare N7's are; in fact, the presence of an N7 made this hastily assembled platoon a true rarity in the Systems Alliance. N7's tend to work on their own or in small squads of their peers during combat missions, as they are generally entrusted with the most sensitive and high-risk missions.

So why then was an N7 brought in to command a quick response team that was ordered to investigate the sudden comm loss with the pioneer team on Akuze?

The reason was simple; this wasn't Hynes' first rapid-response landing.

Hynes had been involved in five previous missions of a similar nature throughout his career, the two most recent he had commanded and had acquired a reputation for efficiency and professionalism when it came to dealing with and commanding the often disparate groups brought together for these types of missions.

Only two of them had actually resulted in combat, his second and fifth, the others were a result of technical difficulties or a cosmological anomaly that interfered with the comm buoys. He hoped that this would just be another routine check-in but he knew better than to drop in unprepared; bored marines were better than dead marines any day.

Hynes' musings were interrupted by the squawk of his comm unit.

"Commander Hynes, we're in a stable orbit over the colony, you have a go," the voice of the _Gallipoli's_ Captain came through Hynes' radio.

"Roger sir, depressurising the Hanger now," Hynes replied, as he activated the de-pressurising sequence.

Warning klaxons leapt into life, casting the entire hangar in harsh red as a twenty second count-down initiated, warning the other marines in the hangar to leave or seal up their suits.

A quick rap on the cockpit door let the pilot know they were ready to leave. The dull thud of the docking clamps releasing was the only sound audible within the shuttles troop bay, before the pilots directed power to the engines and put the shuttle in a stable hover within the hangar bay.

The Hangar bay doors finished opening, and the shuttle slipped out into the vacuum of space without sound.

* * *

Shepard watched the shuttle leave and waited until the hangar was pressurised again, then he went back to weapons prep.

Collapsing his newly reassembled M-7 Lancer, he placed it on the magnetic attachment points on his hard-suit. Then he took his Firestorm Shotgun from its place in his gear locker and began to inspect the weapon, checking the field generator, ammo block and his personal modifications. Satisfied, he collapsed it and attached it to the hard-point on his lower back.

It was one of the benefits of being an N-Class, you got to use more specialised, and expensive, weapons, as well as being allowed to add modifications of your choosing. Members of the Special Forces had a bit more freedom with their gear than other vocations, but that came at the price of far more being demanded of you. Just to be considered for the N vocation, you had to be an elite, able to pass through Officer Candidacy _and_ show aptitude in a number of skills, ranging from asymmetrical combat to advanced physics and software engineering. It only got harder with every grade increase from there.

He quickly finished his inspection of his Kessler M-14 pistol, the standard issue sidearm for all Alliance personnel, when a preliminary report from Commander Hynes was broadcast to the Squad Leaders of the Platoon.

In short, the situation was not good. No sign of the colonists, heavy damage to the colony site and a completely dead radio frequency band never boded well.

With his weapons stowed, his suit sealed and its systems running nominally, Shepard joined the other five members of his squad who had also finished their preparations.

"Lieutenant," Corporal Toombs greeted as he turned and saluted Shepard as he approached. The rest of the squad did the same.

"At ease," Shepard replied with a quick salute. "I trust you're all ready to move?"

"Yes, sir!" They replied in perfect synchronisation.

Shepard could see the slight ticks they all had, nervous habits unique to the individual. Some re-checked their weapons, others fidgeted slightly, while others still scanned the room, even though the cargo bay was quite secure. For his part, Shepard tended to rub the back of his neck, though he had to mentally restrain himself now that he was in a position of command; no sense in making your squad doubt you.

'Good,' he thought to himself, 'they're not taking this lightly, they'll be ready if we have to enter a combat zone.' While the preliminary report didn't make any mention of hostiles, it was never worth not preparing.

"Good to hear, the _Gallipoli_ will be landing in five; the Commander will be dispensing orders once we touchdown. I want all of you to be at the top of your game. The commander hasn't reported any hostiles but he also said that there is no sign of the pioneer team. We're here to secure the site for the rest of the force arriving in three days, and until they arrive we treat this as hostile territory."

The other five members of Delta squad nodded.

"Any questions you might have will have to wait until we're groundside," Shepard stated, pre-empting the couple of younger marines who would inevitably have questions. "All we know is that there is no sign of the Pioneer team, Alpha team hasn't reported any hostile contacts and the area is currently secure. Now make any last minute preparations you need, make sure you've been to the little soldier's room and get ready to disembark!"

A chorus of "Sir, yes Sir!" Greeted the lieutenant as his marines snapped into action.

* * *

 **Systems Alliance Heavy Frigate SSV** ** _Gallipoli_** **, Akuze (October 18, 2177, 0830 hours, Colony Time):**

Hynes walked over to the Hanger Door once the _Gallipoli_ had landed, making sure to stand just far enough away so as not to be hit by the door as it lowered towards the planet. He was pleased to see that the marines still aboard the _Gallipoli_ were alert and ready to disembark, no trace of the flippant or disinterested attitudes that often plagued these missions… and got people killed.

"Marines, listen up! Bravo and Echo teams, link up with Alpha and secure the perimeter. Teams Charlie, Delta and Golf, prep the supplies and get them off the ship. Foxtrot, get a comm link to the buoys set up. Hotel, you've got the Grizzly," the Commander suppressed a grin as the squads went straight to the tasks they had been assigned.

After Bravo and Echo had left the Hangar bay and Hotel squad had driven the M29A 'Grizzly' IFV off the ship, Hynes moved back on board to update the Captain on their progress and report to the brass about the state of the colony. He nodded to the marines unloading their supplies, which mostly consisted of rations and communication equipment as well as mini-facturing equipment and a not-insignificant amount of omni-gel for repairing any damage to critical infrastructure such as water mains or power generators.

As the elevator began its ascent, his mind began to run through the extra logistical details he'd need to ask the Captain about once he reached the CIC. He would need to ask for use of the ships comm room until they could get comm gear working on the planet proper. Hynes was also going to suggest that the _Gallipoli_ wait in orbit until they were ready to leave, once all the supplies were unloaded and separate comms had been established. The elevator pinged and allowed him to step out into the CIC, where Hynes found the captain surveying status reports in the centre of the mass of consoles that acted as the nerve centre of the vessel.

"Captain," Hynes stood, saluting. His heavy armour and the veritable arsenal of weapons attached to his back made a lot of the bridge crew stare. The crimson stripe over his right arm and the N7 insignia emblazoned on his chest only added to the effect. The Captain turned and shut down his omni-tool, returning Hynes' salute. "I assume that you're here to update me on your team's progress and the state of the Colony?"

"Yes sir," Hynes replied, before bringing up his own omni-tool and describing what Alpha team had found upon landing.

* * *

Shepard surveyed the colony, or what was left of it, which wasn't much. Wide depression, troughs and mounds of dirt littered the colony, prefab buildings were strewn all over the place and some of the walls looked to have _acid_ scarring across them. He had never seen anything like it. There was no evidence of a fire fight, no mass accelerator scoring, no bodies or blood stains, no explosive damage, nothing.

They had finished unloading supplies a few minutes ago, so his squad had formed a perimeter around their camp as they waited for new orders.

"Think the SIU might have trying out some new toys?" Corporal Toombs practically spat the name out as he surveyed the acid damage. The Special Intervention Unit was the infamous Batarian Special Forces group, renowned for their brutality. They were also the only members of the Batarian Hegemony allowed to leave Hegemony Space. There was a lot of speculation that the recent increase in surprisingly well armed and trained pirate attacks on human colonies and interests in the Verge were a result of covert funding and training by SIU units.

"I'm not sure, there's none of the typical evidence of a pirate raid, no evidence of a fire fight. We can leave the sleuthing to the experts when they arrive in a couple of days, until then we just need make sure that whoever attacked this colony doesn't come back."

* * *

Hynes strode down the Bay Door, the red and white stripe on his armour gleaming in the harsh lights from the cargo bay. This time none of the marines saluted, they were On Mission and highlighting to an enemy who your commanding officer is tends to be considered poor form, even if his N7 decals would make him a priority target anyway.

Noting the nearest Officer, Commander Hynes walked up to Shepard.

"Lieutenant, sitrep."

"Sir, all supplies unloaded and stored; Alpha, Bravo and Echo squads report Perimeter Secure and motion sensors active. Foxtrot is calibrating the comm array, it should be ready with-in ten minutes and Hotel is finishing a grid sweep looking for survivors, none found so far though," John rattled off as he recalled the status reports from the other squads.

"Good, good. There's a briefing at 0900 in the Operations Tent, don't be late," Hynes concluded in his traditionally blunt manner.

"Yes Sir," Shepard replied with a nod, before returning to his squad, while the Commander resumed walking, presumably to meet with the other Squad Leaders.

Over his squad's comm channel, Shepard relayed the update.

"Squad, hold position for now, we'll have our new assignments soon. Chief, you've got command while I'm at the briefing."

The usual chorus of 'Acknowledged' and 'Roger' came back through his helmet's speakers. Shepard began to head off towards the tent, eager to get his latest orders so he could give his men something to do or at least let them get some food and rest.

Entering the Ops tent Shepard found Lieutenant's Zhu and Treyn, leaders of Foxtrot and Echo respectively, already present. The state of the Colony had everyone on edge and until they were told otherwise this area was still technically hostile territory, so no one was being particularly talkative. Shepard nodded to them as he entered and took a seat, waiting for the remaining squad leaders and the Commander himself. The remainder filed in over the next five minutes until finally Hynes arrived, right on 0900.

Tapping a couple of keys on his omni-tool, Hynes brought a up a map of the colony with patrol routes marked on it and threw it onto the big screen whilst simultaneously sending a copy to all of the marines in the room.

"The Colony is secure for the moment, no signs of hostile activity or evidence of any survivors. Now we need to keep it secure until the main force arrives in 64 hours. Until then I want Bravo, Foxtrot and Hotel manning the Grizzly. One member of Hotel will be with the tank at all times while Bravo and Foxtrot can divide into two teams of three each. That gives us four teams of four. Each team will be on three hour rotations patrolling the outer perimeter; I'll leave you to work out the roster. Charlie, Delta, Echo and Golf will alternate on guard duty around the camp proper, four hours each; Charlie squad will be first, then Delta. Alpha squad will be on constant patrol around the camp perimeter for the duration of our stay. I want any squads not on active patrol to be combat ready and able to enter a fight within two minutes. Motion sensors are rigged at extreme range and drop ships are hard to miss so we should know if anything is approaching the camp. I'll be taking Alpha out in 30 minutes; Staff Lieutenant O'Connell has command of base operations if I am out of contact. Any questions?" He fired off, surveying the officers before him who all shook their heads.

"Good, go and get your squads ready then, we'll be here for a while yet."


	6. Chapter 5: Threshing Floor

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Chapter 5: First you Thresh it...**

* * *

 **Akuze, Command Post Alpha (October 18, 2177, 2245 hours, Colony Time):**

Shepard glanced up from the data-pad he was reading to survey his squad. Gibson and Vladick were catching some shut-eye after the squad's guard posting, while Jenson, Toombs and Forbes played a variant of Blackjack popular among the marines known as 'Blackgum', where rather than betting money they played for the Energy Bars, Jell-O and Chocolate that came with ration packs and drawing a Red Jack resulted in an immediate bust.

A familiarly uncomfortable gnawing ate at his stomach, and Shepard decided that he should listen to it, much as he might regret it. So he got up out of the cot and strode over to the mess tent, which was really a 300L crate full of de-hydrated MRE's and a pair of general purpose microwave ovens.

While military weaponry, vehicles and armour had advanced light years since the discovery of Mass Effect technology and the cross-culture exchange with other Citadel species, military cooking had advanced little in 200 years; dehydrated meals were still the most space efficient means of feeding troops. Grimacing at the thought of eating dressed up nutrient paste again, Shepard sifted through the packs attempting to find a new meal type in the vain hope that it wouldn't taste like cardboard.

Settling on 'Tandoori Chicken and Fried Rice' he slit the seal on the packet with his combat knife and placed the water injection nozzle into the slit. Once enough water had been added he slipped the reconstituted packet inside the microwave and let it heat up.

As he waited, John looked around the rapidly assembled camp site amidst the deserted colony. Akuze was a relatively mild planet with conditions quite close to Earth, though tidal events and weather tended to be more extreme due to the four moons trapped in its orbit. The colony was set up on the smaller of the two northern continents, at a sub-tropical latitude and the site itself had been chosen for its nearly optimal position. It was situated with-in a natural clearing near a mountain chain that would have provided an excellent water supply from both rainfall and rivers while the clearing gave the colony a good line of sight in the event of a pirate attack.

'At least it should have' he thought to himself, grimacing as he thought of the loss of life here.

A shrill tone shook him out of his thoughts as the machine announced that he could now claim his sachet of warm paste. Pouring the contents into a bowl, he grabbed a utensil pack and returned to his cot. As he had feared, it was a struggle to resist the urge to gag as he began to eat, the slimy texture and complete lack of flavour made the meal particularly unappetising; he decided that Tandoori Chicken was another 'No' meal.

Seeing his Lieutenant's discomfort, Jenson, the squad's most senior NCO and a long-term member of his squad, spoke up.

"Don't worry LT, you get used to it after the first hundred or so," he smirked, getting a laugh from around the table.

"Glad I'm on number 85 then," John shot back, joining in the laughter. "I'm starting to think they should include a straw with these utensil packs; I'm not sure how much good a knife and fork do when dealing with sludge."

"I think we can all agree on that, sir. I wonder how many signatures we'd need for a petition…" Forbes, a newer addition to the squad, replied, rubbing his stubbled chin thoughtfully as another round of laughter came from the table.

The laughter died quickly, however, as a fleeting but noticeable shudder rumbled through the ground.

Shepard excused himself from the group as his comm squawked, listening with interest as Treyn's voice came through his earpiece.

"Echo Lead here, anyone else feel that tremor? I didn't think this area was tectonically active."

"Echo Lead, this is Alpha Lead. We felt it too and you're right, the original survey noted this region as tectonically stable, it was one of the reasons the site was chosen."

"Delta Lead here, we felt it in the camp proper as well," Shepard said, adding his own report.

There was a moment of silence before Hynes' voice came over the comms again.

"Grizzly One, did you feel anything?"

"Negative Alpha Lead, though the radar system glitched out a minute ago. The suspension systems probably would have absorbed any shaking."

"Roger Grizzly One, send me a copy of the radar charts for the last fifteen minutes and keep me apprised of any more 'glitches'."

"Roger, sending now."

As quiet once again descended, Shepard returned to his cot. Whatever the tremor was, it hadn't even woken Gibson and Vladick up from their slumber. Poking his 'meal' a couple of times, he decided that he wasn't so hungry after all, so he stowed his helmet and gloves and tried to catch some sleep, setting his omni-tool to wake him in four hours.

* * *

"-ontact Engaged! Repeat, hostile contact engaged! This is Grizzly Actual requesting immediate assistance at grid location Golf Two, Bravo Three."

Shepard shot awake at the sound of the radio in his ear and the cannon fire in the distance. Quickly sitting up he grabbed his helmet and secured its seals, before going to do the same with his gloves. Around him he could see the rest of his squad doing the same.

The Commander's voice once again came through his earpiece, relaying instructions.

"Acknowledged Grizzly Actual, Alpha is en-route to your position. Remaining squads, hold position and protect the camp and the _Gallipoli_. Grizzly Actual, can you give a description of the hostiles?"

"Only one hostile sir, it looks like an indigenous life form, very large, easily 30 metres tall. It just appeared out of the ground and attempted to attack the vehicle. I think it was the source of the tremors earlier. It retreated after we engaged it, though it didn't seem to be badly wounded. Recommend heavy weapons and armour piercing or explosive ammunition."

"Roger Grizzly Actual, fallback to the camp, Alpha will cover you. All squads, switch to high calibre weaponry and arm with explosive ordinance, marksmen to use armour piercing ammunition. Charlie squad, grab the Heavy Weapons and get them prepped. I want squads spread out and covering all angles of fire. _Gallipoli_ , get airborne and in to orbit, we don't know this creature's capabilities yet. Any information you can find in the Council database would be appreciated as well," Hynes stated, his voice calm, methodical. It was an unexpected situation, but he wasn't going to let that faze him, Special Forces are trained to handle unexpected situations.

"Roger Alpha Actual, _Gallipoli_ beginning prep for dust-off, we'll be airborne in three."

Acknowledgements from the other squad leaders came through to Hynes and Shepard added his own acknowledgement as he began to organise his squad.

"Alright everyone, weapons hot. Jenson, get that Tungsten ammo loaded and take up position on top of the prefab to the left. Vladick, Forbes, I want you to dig in near the garage and help the Grizzly team when they arrive. Gibson, Toombs and I will set up overlapping fields of fire across the courtyard. Remember to fire in short, controlled bursts, explosive ammo will quickly overheat your weapon if you fire full-auto," he snapped off orders, the training in his mind taking over, positioning his men to cover the entrance for the Grizzly and Alpha team.

Detaching his Lancer and activating the explosive ammunition modification, he took position behind a set of crates as Toombs and Gibson did the same five metres on either side of him. Tense seconds followed as all that could be heard was the growing thrum of the _Gallipoli's_ drive core as it powered up and the growl of the Grizzly's engine as it drew closer. The marines waited, prepared for any assault on their position.

And that was the biggest flaw in their plan.

With an explosion of dirt and a shrieking wail, the creature launched itself out of the ground and latched onto the hull of the _Gallipoli_.

Shepard hadn't been prepared for the immense size of the creature. It was nearly the size of the _Gallipoli_ and more of it was still buried under the surface. It raised two scythe-like raptorial appendages and brought them down, crashing through the hull of the vessel like it was made of cardboard, the screech of rending metal carrying through the night air. The long, wormlike body rippled with muscle and purple chitinous plates as it struggled to drag the impaled prey back into its underground lair.

The marines in the camp were transfixed by the carnage in front of them, unsure of how to react. Screaming over the comm from the crew aboard the _Gallipoli_ spurred the marines into action, however.

As one they broke cover and opened fire on the behemoth attacking their fellow servicemen. The crack of high powered rifles and clatter of automatic weapons filled the air as small explosions blossomed across the creatures hide where the explosive rounds impacted. Despite the volume of rounds hitting the creature it barely flinched at the fusillade, continuing to haul the _Gallipoli_ off the landing pad. Shepard was also firing, using sharp burst of fire, trying to hit at what looked like they could be weak points on the creature, to little avail.

Without warning, an enormous explosion blasted out from the side of the beast, taking a chunk of the chitinous armour with it. The thing screamed and rapidly retreated into the earth, the cracked plating on its side smoking from the impact of the shell. Shepard looked around for the source and saw the Grizzly cresting the top of a nearby hill, its cannon readied and scanning for the creature, should it reappear.

Silence settled for a tense minute, no one daring to move lest that somehow attract the creature. But soon the moment passed, and after quickly surveying the area, a number of marines jogged over to the battered frigate and began to pry open the emergency escape hatches to help the crew of the ship escape.

Alpha team was just beginning to crest the ridge with the Grizzly when another tremor rumbled through the ground.

It was the only warning as seconds later, the creature rose out of the ground again, three hundred metres away from the camp.

The turret on the Grizzly began to rotate towards the animal, turning to face the threat as soon as it had exploded out of the ground. The beast was faster however and it arched backwards and released a projectile spray from its mouth.

The stream of liquid impacted the Grizzly side on, splashing across the second tire and turret barrel. The areas that the blast had impacted immediately began to smoke as the acid pitted and scored the metal, rendering the turret barrel severely weakened and the tire inoperable.

The Grizzly's crew were unaware of the barrel damage, however, and as soon as the gun was lined up, the order came to fire.

The force of the shell firing caused the barrel to shatter, failing under the force, while the shell spun away harmlessly. The sudden loss of the barrel meant the usual systems for absorbing the recoil of such a shot weren't in place, so the turret recoiled violently and only narrowly avoided breaking off the vehicle in its entirety.

Now that the Grizzly was no longer a threat, the creature then began to line up another attack on the damaged _Gallipoli_.

Seeing what was about to happen, Shepard's eyes widened in horrified realisation.

"Move! Get out of the way! Go! GO!" He screamed, hoping someone would realise what was about to happen. A couple seemed to take note of the danger and began to run, dragging their comrades with them.

Too late.

The acid spray impacted across the hull of the _Gallipoli_ and five of the marines nearby, their screams audible even without comms, as the acid ate through their armour, then their flesh.

Shepard had no idea if any of them were still alive, but it was a question that would have to wait because things began to happen very quickly after that point.

Another explosion of dirt announced a _second_ creature, as it launched out of the ground and wrapped its tentacle-like mouthparts around the Grizzly. With no weaponry and no mobility, the crew inside were helpless as the entire vehicle was dragged underground.

Toombs and Gibson traded a shocked look between them. More than a little shaken, Toombs turned to their Lieutenant.

"Sir, what should we-"

The corporal was cut off as two more of the creatures rose from the ground and attacked the _Gallipoli_ once more; sinking their scythe-like limbs deep through the hull and leaching acid in an attempt to further weaken their prey. A couple of marines fired at the creatures in vain, their small-arms lacking the power to even annoy the creatures. Just as before the beasts attempted to drag the frigate into the ground, but this time they extended glowing blue 'tongues' that carved clean through the armoured hull, further weakening the ship's structural integrity.

That was evidently enough, however, as the _Gallipoli's_ super-structure was wracked by the sound of groaning, shearing metal as the entire ship was ripped apart, two large portions of which were dragged down into the abyss by the retreating monsters.

And then it was over.

* * *

Silence descended on the camp; no one knew what to say. In two minutes they had lost their armoured support, their evac route and a fifth of their number, and inflicted little more than flesh wounds on the creatures that had done it.

In tactical terms, the creatures could do little better if they were planning to thoroughly annihilate their enemy. Either they were exceptionally intelligent or they were exceptionally aggressive, and Shepard wasn't sure which was worse.

Hynes and the rest of Alpha team arrived during the period of silence that had overtaken the camp, and his presence soon rallied the scattered marines.

"Marines, I know what you're thinking right now, that we don't have a chance, that we're all dead men walking. But we _are_ still alive and we _can_ still fight. These things don't seem very interested in us, and with any luck it'll stay that way, but until the cavalry arrives I want information. Delta squad, link up with the Alliance. Give them a sit-rep and see if they have any information about these hostiles. Everyone else, I want an accounting of our casualties; see if there is anyone still alive out there that we can help. Keep yourselves spread out and if they come back, fall back to the camp, normal weapons don't have enough punch to damage them. Dismissed."

His authoritative, crisp tone helped to focus the marines, their fear replaced with action now that they had something to do.

Shepard took stock of Delta team and moved off towards the comm gear. He left Jenson and Toombs on look-out while Vladick, Gibson and Forbes helped the other marines with their tasks.

Interfacing with the comm satellite, he attempted to raise Alliance Command. He knew they wouldn't be getting any reinforcements for at least another 50 hours, when the main force arrived, so advising Command of the new developments and trying to get information were the priorities. After a couple of minutes he was finally routed through to the Intelligence Office.

"State your name, rank and verification code," ordered the synthesised voice of the VI that controlled comm traffic through the Alliance systems.

"Staff Lieutenant John Shepard, Verification Code: Alpha – Kilo – Zulu – Romeo – Romeo – Delta – 1"

"Identity verified. Transferring you to the Intelligence Officer for your mission."

Shepard waited for another half-a-minute until another voice finally came over his headset.

"Lieutenant, your platoon has another four hours until the next scheduled check-in, what's happening?"

"Sir, our force has been attacked by unidentified, hostile indigenous life-forms and we have suffered heavy casualties. The _SSV Gallipoli_ has been destroyed and we are currently undertaking rescue efforts. In addition, our IFV has also been destroyed, along with at least seven marines."

There was an obvious pause before the reply as the Intel officer on the other end of the line tried to digest what he had just been told.

"You're saying that an indigenous life-form did this. Preliminary surveys of the colony site made no mention of anything capable of that much destruction. Can you give me a description? I'll pass it along to our Council Liaison, the other races might have come across something like this before."

"They appear to be a primarily subterranean species and they are huge, easily larger than an Alliance Frigate. The best way I could describe them would be worm-like, with purple coloured armour plating covering the back. They possess two very large raptorial appendages and a large blue tongue that can seemingly chew through metal. They also use a powerful acid as a projectile weapon."

"Christ… okay Lieutenant, I'll pass this along and get back to you as soon as possible, stay near the comm system until you hear back from us."

"Roger, be advised however that we may need to vacate the area if they return, our weapons have been completely ineffective so far."

"Understood Lieutenant, we will be in contact soon."

* * *

The fifteen minutes it had taken had felt like an eternity to John as he paced nervously around the satellite uplink, but Alliance Intel had come through for them.

They now knew what they were facing, though it didn't paint a pretty picture.

Apparently the creatures were called Thresher Maws and were believed to have originated on Tuchanka, the Krogan Homeworld, where they are the Apex Predator.

That alone was enough to set alarm bells of in his head, everything that lived on Tuchanka was designed both to kill and not be killed itself, even the few remaining plants would make a Grizzly Bear look like a cute stuffed animal in comparison.

Thresher Maws apparently use their raptorial scythes as their main method of attack but also have extremely powerful digestive acids as well as the capacity to produce concentrated sonic pulses that can stun their victims at best or pulverise them at worst. The 'tongue' that had so easily ripped through the hull of the _Gallipoli_ was in fact a radula formed out of titanium and carbon crystals that was mainly used for burrowing but, like everything else about the creature, could easily be turned into a weapon.

To make matters worse, their defensive capabilities were just as potent as their offensive ones. They were resistant to all known types of radiation, and are actually known to utilise many forms as an energy source in a form of radiosynthesis. They possess very rapid cellular regeneration, even greater than that of a Krogan, and their armour plating is composed of a very thick and dense carbon weave superficially similar to Carbon Fibre, giving them significant protection from Mass Accelerator rounds.

All of the information provided gave Shepard little hope of beating them, a feeling that only increased when it was revealed that the standard tactics employed by the Turians if they encountered one was to call in heavy vehicle support, preferably aerial, or failing that, to avoid combat and retreat as rapidly as possible to an exfiltration point. Only vehicle mounted weapons or the most powerful of man portable weapons had proven to have any effect on the Maws in combat and it commonly ended with the Maw retreating only to reappear beneath its target.

The more he read, the more Shepard couldn't help but think that Intel was wrong; these things weren't Apex Predators, they were Forces of Nature.

After relaying the provided information to the Commander, Shepard went to check on his squad, leaving Hynes to formulate a plan.

As he ascended the ladder next to the door, Shepard could see the prone forms of the two marines he'd left assigned as look-outs, propped up on the cool metal of the prefab structure's roof.

"Lieutenant," Jenson noted, not taking his eyes from his scope as he scanned the horizon.

"Chief, Corporal," Shepard replied, nodding to Jenson and Toombs in turn. "How is it looking out there?"

"Nothing's moved since the last attack twenty minutes ago, and I mean nothing, no bugs, none of those skink like things. It's way too quiet."

Shepard nodded his head grimly, agreeing with his squad's lead sniper and scout. Jenson's sharp eyes had been proven time and again in both training and combat, so he was usually the squad's first warning against hostile incursions, but now the enemies they fought bypassed the surface entirely, so he was using his trained eye to watch for movement in the ground.

Toombs was acting as his spotter, and as well as providing a second set of eyes, the Corporal had also brought an AT-63 missile launcher.

The AT-63 was a single shot, disposable, self-guided High Explosive Anti Tank (HEAT) weapon, designed for use on light armoured vehicles, shuttles, gunships etc. Shepard had no idea if it would be enough to stop a thresher maw, but it was better than the alternative.

"Did you get any information from the Brass sir?" Toombs asked, glancing back at the Lieutenant.

"Yeah, but you're not going to like it. They're called Thresher Maws, originally from Tuchanka."

"You mean the Krogan planet?"

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"My thoughts exactly."

"So, how do we kill them?"

"I don't know, the Commander is working out a plan at the moment, expect a full briefing shortly, but from what I've heard, it will have to be one hell of a plan."

"Do you think they'll be back?"

"Not sure, the fact they didn't continue to attack after they destroyed the Grizzly and the _Gallipoli_ makes me think they were dealing with things they considered a threat, and it would appear that we're not on that list. Let's just hope it stays that way."

"What about the Colonists? No way they would have been more of a threat than us."

That caught Shepard by surprise. He hadn't considered the fate of the Pioneer Team. Their demise, presumably at the hands of the Thresher Maws, seemed to indicate another reason for their behaviour.

"Hmmm, that's a good point. I don't know, really, there are a lot of unknowns here…" he mused.

Noting the tense set of their bodies and noting his own flowing adrenaline, he decided he needed to try and lighten the sombre air.

"Anyway, we're just paid to shoot stuff, not work out the motivations for giant alien worms; we can leave that to the techs and the brass to figure out."

That got a couple of chuckles out of the marines; forced laughs, but better than the paralysing tension that had been there before.

Jenson spoke up shortly after, still keeping his eyes focused down the sights.

"Any information on these things' weak points, LT?"

"Not really, the whole body is armoured. Avoid the purple plating on the back; it's even tougher than the rest of it."

"Or you could just shoot wherever this baby hits it," Toombs stated proudly as he hefted the launcher, "I'm sure it will do enough damage to one of those things to at least make a dent."

"Let's just hope you don't have to use it, Corporal," Shepard commented, before turning to go check on the rescue operation from the _Gallipoli_.

* * *

Shepard spent the next half an hour sifting through debris and searching the mangled carcass of the Heavy Frigate for survivors.

So far there had been only corpses.

It would appear that the entire crew of thirty four had been killed in the attack; the sheer violence of the assault that had gutted the ship had also sparked various oil and electrical fires. Even though all star-ships were specifically designed to be fire retardant, there was only so much you could do when fire-systems are off and you're surrounded by vegetation and organic matter. A such, the ship's interior and what was left of the super-structure's tangled remains was charred almost beyond recognition and many sections were still too hot to search properly, while fires still burned in others; the chances of anyone surviving were somewhere between slim to none.

Shepard mentally cursed himself as he looked over at the row of body bags filled with the burnt remains of the crew and the acid scarred bodies of the marines caught in the Maw's attack.

He should have been able to save them.

Forcing himself to look away he turned back to the wreckage. He still had a job to do, still had men to lead; he couldn't afford the luxury of self-pity.

Once more his omni-tool beeped and Commander Hynes' voice came across his earpiece. He looked up from his work and saw all the marines around him do the same, indicating that he was addressing everyone.

"Marines, assemble outside the Ops tent ASAP, we've got a lot of intel to go through."

Glancing back at the charred mass of metal that used to be a beautiful ship now splayed in front of him, he threw what used to be part of an I-Beam to the ground and turned to walk back to the camp, ensuring that the other marines followed his lead.

They knew as well as he did that, for the moment at least, there was nothing more they could do for souls, alive or dead, left in the wreckage.

When everyone had arrived, the marines were arrayed throughout the courtyard in the camp, and many of them now sported armour covered in soot and blood as they sat on crates of supplies or leaned against tent poles, as the Commander explained what they now knew about Thresher Maws.

Shepard could see the colour drain from the faces of some of them, and a couple decided it would be wise to sit down pre-emptively, but by and large they took the information that they were fighting an unknown number of gigantic, near invulnerable alien worms pretty well.

Then Hynes began to describe their plan of action for the next 48 hours as he paced in front of the platoon.

"We don't have the firepower to fight these things, but so far they don't seem that interested in us. If we're lucky it will stay that way but I'm not foolish enough to bank on it. Foxtrot will jury rig the motion sensors into seismic sensors, which should give us some warning if they come back. I also want our marksmen out on the rooftops keeping an eye out. You've got the only small arms capable of hurting the Maws so make your shots count, look for gaps in the armour or the region around the mouth. I also want our heavy weapon stores to be distributed around the colony. If these things attack again we can't try a traditional defence, we need to spread out and hit them wherever they show up. Try to stay sparse, bunching up makes you vulnerable if they start spitting acid or come up inside the camp," he instructed, still pacing and enforcing every point with a hard stare or emphatic gesture.

Looking around at the arrayed marines again, he sighed and dropped the 'Commander' tone, addressing them as friends instead.

"I won't lie to you, we don't know how many there are, we don't know if we can really hurt them and we don't know what causes them to attack. So far they've ignored us and I pray that it continues because we've got two more days until reinforcements get here. If they do attack, then you have two choices, you can fight, or you can die, because right now there are not a lot of other options."

The rest of the marines nodded sombrely. They knew the score, but they would be damned if they were going to go down without a fight.


	7. Chapter 6: Winnowing

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Chapter 6: ... Then you Winnow it.**

* * *

 **Akuze, Command Post Alpha (October 19, 2177, 1310 hours, Colony Time):**

It had been nearly fifteen hours since the first attack when the pulses started.

A sharp trio of impacts rolled through the earth, repeating regularly every minute. They would have been easily missed had the marines not been paying particular attention to even the most minute of the ground's shifts. The pulses weren't like the tremors that had preceded the first Thresher Maw attack, but ever marine was soon on edge.

Speculation flew as to what could be causing them, and since they now knew that the Maws could generate sonic pulses, the leading theory was that it was some form of communication between them. By this point, the marines, to a man, were fully geared up.

Then the pulses started to speed up.

Soon, it was clear that the source of the pulses was also getting closer as more and the force behind them grew and grew until the vibration could be felt in the air itself, trailing behind the shockwave in the ground.

None of the other marines needed to be told what to do; they scrambled for cover amongst the abandoned prefabs, some readying the missile launchers spread throughout the camp.

Joining Jenson and Toombs on top of one of the prefabs, Shepard slid into a prone position next to them and passed a Thermite laced ammunition block to Toombs as he explained.

"Assault rifles don't have the punch to make it through these things' armour, even with AP modifications, but incendiaries might at least do some damage. Jenson, stick with the Tungsten for your sniper rifle and prioritise high powered shots around the head area. Don't worry about the rate of fie decrease; more rounds won't mean jack if they aren't doing any damage."

"And that's why you're the officer," Toombs replied with a grin as he slammed the new ammo block home into the guns receiver and discarded the previous, well used ammo block.

John took a quick survey of the area around them. They were on a building positioned towards the North West corner of the colony while the rest of Delta squad was near another prefab to the East. The other squads were arrayed in a loose circle throughout the other buildings in the colony, either on top or inside them.

The prefabs weren't secured into the ground in any meaningful way so he had little doubt that a Maw could bulldoze one aside with relative ease and a cursory observation of the area supported that, seeing as more than a few of the structures had been shifted off their meagre foundations at an earlier time, some even having been flipped onto their roofs or sides. The drop from rooftop to ground was less than ten feet, so a negligible obstacle if they needed to reposition in a hurry.

Toombs still had two of AT-63 HEAT missile packs and some marines had set mounted heavy machine guns and automated turrets on other nearby rooftops, giving them commanding fields of fire against an approaching enemy. While he wasn't sure that it would be quite as effective against foes that burrowed _under_ their prey to attack it, Shepard was damn glad that the extra firepower was there nonetheless.

* * *

Soon the pulses were becoming so strong and so regular that Shepard was beginning to feel disoriented and nauseous as he tried to block out the shuddering vibrations of the prefab beneath him and the now nearly instantaneous surge of pressure in the air that followed.

Finally something broke up the monotony of the pulses, but it was not an moment to be glad; the tremors had started.

John unlimbered his shotgun, charging it up to fire a superheated mass of metal known colloquially among the marines as a 'Carnage' shot due to its destructive nature when it impacted tissue. Soon, the barrel was practically glowing from the pent-up charge and steam was venting from the weapon's heatsinks constantly, in an effort to keep the weapon functional.

"This is it people. Trust your gun and trust your squad, and I'll see you all when this is over. Hynes out."

That would be the last time John would ever hear Commander Mitchell Hynes, N7, speak because not fifteen seconds later, the first of the Thresher Maws erupted from the ground just outside of the prefab perimeter and ripped into a nearby building with its scythe-like limbs.

While there hadn't been any marines inside at the time, the ease at which it tore through the metal was humbling for those watching. The awe didn't last long however as marines began to open fire, peppering the beast with hyper velocity rounds all across its carapace, leaving small dents and score marks on the thick hide and armour. Small explosions and spot fires blossomed as specialised ammunitions came into play, but the effect was still negligible. Some rounds impacted softer areas around the mouthparts of the Thresher, causing it to scream in rage and rush back into the earth.

Its retreat constituted little more than a brief reprieve however, as five more of the beasts exploded from the ground. They immediately began tearing into the buildings and fortifications, expelling acidic sprays at some clusters of marines and simply swallowing others who were unfortunate enough to be caught on open ground. Soon the colony-turned-battlefield rang with the otherworldly shrieks of the Thresher Maws and the strangled cries of dying and wounded marines, painfully and clearly audible even over the reports of dozens of rifles, explosives and heavy weapons.

Shepard released his carnage blast at the nearest Maw, watching as the volatile mass of gouged a small hole in its armour even as he stowed the shotgun and switched to his rifle. Next to him, Toombs was firing in extended bursts at the same creature, focusing on the impact region of his lieutenant's carnage shot while the sharp cracks of Jenson's rifle punctured the cacophony of noise at a steady rate as he lined up shots and boosted the accelerator power inside the weapon to max before firing and letting the heat vent, then repeating the process, alternating between firing at the weaker armour around the mandibles and firing at the wound in its side that was slowly beginning to leak bright orange blood.

Flaming rounds found their mark and bit into the cracked armour, shattering it and slowly exposing the flesh beneath but if the damage was any hindrance to the Maw, it didn't show as it continued to assault another prefab housing some of the members of Bravo squad.

The Maw sliced down repeatedly, stabbing clean through from ceiling to base with its wickedly bladed appendages while its mouthparts searched for edible morsels inside the strange metallic box. Finding nothing but gunfire inside, it lowered its head until its crest lay flush with the wall and emitted a barrage of Ultra Low Frequency sound waves in rapid succession. At that range there was nothing the marines inside could do as their organs were turned to mush by the enormous pressure waves that crashed into their bodies. The creature returned to searching for food inside the pre-fab, its tentacle-like mouthparts curling around the pulverised remains of the marines and directing them into its cavernous maw where an array of pharyngeal teeth waited to greet anything that passed through its mouth.

Seeing how the Maw was distracted by its meal, a marine inside another pre-fab took the opportunity to line up a shot with an AT-63. The missile streaked out of the building and covered the distance in less than a second, slamming into the Thresher and detonating, sending a lance of molten metal deep into the creature. Orange blood and flesh flew out from the badly wounded Maw as it writhed in pain and retreated quickly into the ground. A cheer could be heard from some of the marines as the Maw disappeared beneath the earth, leaving a substantial trail of blood and tissue behind. The reverie was short lived as an acid blast slammed into the window that the rocket had come from and screams could be heard from the marines inside as the acid coated their hard suits and weapons, quickly eating through the synthetic materials and reaching the flesh beneath.

Shepard winced inwardly and switched fire to the next closest Maw, firing with one hand while he charged another carnage blast on his shotgun. Toombs reached for a missile on the ground beside him and hefted it to his shoulder, trying to lock on to the rapidly moving Thresher Maws.

"I can't get a good lock LT! They're too close and moving too fast," he shouted through gritted teeth as he tried to get a lock on the creatures.

"Fire manually, aim for the area where they come up out of the ground; that gives you the longest window to hit," Shepard replied as he lined up another carnage blast using the same technique.

"Yes Sir," the Corporal replied with a grin as he adjusted his aim at the nearest Maw and pulled the trigger.

The missile streaked out of the barrel, covering the distance rapidly before releasing it payload into the creature. It was a glancing blow to the side of the immense beast but it was enough to cause a large gash across the heavily armoured and muscled body. The wound was clearly severe enough to make it pull back into the ground to recover.

It has barely been five minutes and already two Threshers were down, but the marines had taken significant casualties. Shepard's HUD showed that the comm signal from both Bravo and Echo Squad Leaders was down and he had personally witnessed at least four marines taken out already. He estimated their current strength at twenty five and there were at least three Thresher Maws still an active threat.

As he loosed another carnage blast and drew a bead on the third beast, another Maw erupted from the ground just off to the side of their pre-fab, wrenching it clear off its foundations and sending it tipping on to its side. The world seemed to move in slow motion for Shepard as everything began to tilt and he started to slip off the roof of the structure. He braced himself against the lip of the roof until the world went vertical and it slammed into the ground, causing him to go tumbling away and land in a heap five metres from the now up-ended pre-fab. He shook his head quickly to try and regain his wits and he could feel a lance of pain shoot up his right side where he had landed heavily on his hip and shoulder. He winced as he struggled to get up; eventually rising to his knees.

Looking around, he saw Toombs struggling to do the same after his fall and searching further, he saw Jenson also beginning to rise… just as a Thresher's scythe-like arm stabbed clean through him, pinning him to the ground as the uneven serrations dug through his body and a mist of blood coated the inside of his visor. Blood quickly began to pool around the wound and mixed with the dirt around his now lifeless corpse.

Adrenaline coursed through John's veins at the sight of his squad mate and friend's grisly death. He jumped to his feet and reached out to grab Toombs' arm and drag him to the nearest piece of cover. After taking a couple of seconds to recover their breath, Toombs spoke up.

"What about the Chief, aren't we going to go get him?"

"Jenson's dead, he never stood a chance," it was true, he could see his squad's vitals at the bottom left of his HUD and Jenson had flat-lined almost immediately after the Maw had hit him. Checking now he saw that Gibson's vitals were very weak as well.

"Vladick, what happened to Gibson?" He called over the comm.

"He got hit by some of the acid, burned clean through the armour on his side. Forbes has patched him up with medi-gel and tried to clean the area of acid with some saline but I don't like his chances."

"Right, keep an eye on him but there's not much more you can do. Focus on keeping yourselves alive. When we get back, the first round or five is on me," It was a poor attempt to keep morale up and his squad new it, but at least they seemed to appreciate the thought.

"Haha, yes sir, I'll hold you to it."

The comm clicked off as Vladick went back work. They both knew the odds of anyone surviving were slim at best but it didn't help to keep saying it.

Looking over the small chunk of rubble that they were hiding behind, John eyed the nearest pre-fab that didn't have a Maw tearing into it, about fifty metres away. He caught Toombs' eye and motioned towards the structure. They would have to make a break for it. Shepard didn't like the idea of running across open ground where being hit by both Thresher Maws and friendly fire was a strong possibility, but it was better than staying where they were, less than twenty feet from the Maw that had killed Jenson. Once he was certain that Toombs knew what he was indicating, he held up his hand and counted down from five.

Five… Toombs nodded, understanding what his lieutenant was indicating.

Four… They both readied their weapons.

Three… Toombs rose to one knee and tensed himself to run.

Two… Shepard did the same.

One… Shepard's vision narrowed down to his target.

Zero.

They both rose and shot out from behind their meagre cover, ducking and weaving between twisted chunks of metal and the Thresher's themselves as they sprinted across the open ground. Shepard reached the building and turned to look for Toombs. The entire run had taken only seven seconds but it had felt like an eternity. As he looked out, he saw Toombs scurrying to grab his rifle from the ground. He must have stumbled and dropped it as he ran. He was only five metres from the doorway Shepard stood at so he called out to him, urging him to hurry up.

Just as he grabbed his rifle, the earth beneath him erupted as another Thresher Maw burst forth. The impact threw Toombs through the air and he landed heavily, dazed by the sudden flight. The beast leaned over him and coiled its body back, preparing to strike. Shepard desperately reached out his hand, the action being little more than symbolic seeing as the corporal was now at least 10m away, with a Thresher Maw between them. For the second time in as many minutes, time seemed to slow for Shepard. He swore he could see the air around his hand distorting slightly as he felt a blinding pain shoot through his spine and into his skull. He collapsed to his knees and he could taste blood at the back of his throat, running down from his nose. He looked up once more, just in time to see Toombs roll clumsily out of the way of the thresher's strike. But before he could get out of the way, the beast's tongue wrapped around his leg and as it slunk back to its subterranean domain it dragged the doomed corporal with it.

Kneeling as he was in the doorway of the pre-fab, Shepard could only watch, helpless. Even then however, he was not granted a reprieve. Another maw burst from the ground near the shack and he scrambled inside, sitting back against the wall in an attempt to minimise his profile.

No such luck.

Both of the Thresher's scythes pierced clean through the roof and sent shards of metal into the ground, one of which pinned Shepard's left arm to the ground. The blades retracted then hammered down repeatedly. Unable to free his arm, Shepard could do little but try to lie as close to the ground as possible.

In the midst of this chaos, a single, piercing note rang out from his helmet as Gibson's vitals flat lined. In a detached moment of comprehension, Shepard noted that he had lost half of his squad in less than ten minutes, to an enemy he had not been good enough to fight.

As if that moment of comprehension was his own personal death-knell, one of the Maw's strikes came down right over his faceplate. The beast's scythe didn't reach far enough to actually pierce the helmet, but the jagged piece of roof that was forced down with it did. It punched a jagged hole in his visor and cut a vicious gash down the left side of his face, running downwards from his brow to his lips and slicing his left eye open.

All things considered, the vicious wound left Shepard feeling rather strange.

He had expected to feel extreme pain, like his entire nervous system was on fire, but instead he felt a mild tingling. That same detached part of his mind told him that this meant he was going into shock due to the massive trauma and amount of adrenaline coursing through his body at the moment. Still, he felt oddly peaceful as he felt the warm sensation of blood and vitreous solution running down half of his face. With the helmet totalled and his left arm pinned, he couldn't administer any medi-gel to the wound, and he wasn't sure if it would have helped anyway.

He could feel his now monocular vision go blurry as he began to become light headed from blood loss or shock, he wasn't sure, but regardless of the cause he resigned himself to his fate, unable to fight any more, trapped with a large chunk of metal pinning him to the ground. As he began to fade completely he was only dimly aware of the sounds of the battle still raging around him, the shrieks of Thresher Maws and screams of marines still echoing through his mind.

* * *

 **[AN: And there you have my take on Akuze.**

 **What did you think? I'd love to hear any feedback you had for this story as a whole and this chapter-arc in particular.**

 **Thanks for reading! /AN]**


	8. Chapter 7: Rest In Peace

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Chapter 7: Rest In Peace...**

* * *

Consciousness returned to John's mind quickly, instantly making him aware of the larger world around him. His body, however, was much slower to respond. His eyes felt glued shut, most of his body was numb and what little he could feel ached uncomfortably, particularly his face.

With a bit more persistence, he managed to get his right eye to crack open ever so slightly, and it was immediately assaulted by a familiar harsh white glare that could only come from an Alliance Medical Facility; between injuries sustained at N-School and the gene therapy treatments all Alliance Soldiers underwent, he'd spent enough time in them over the last few months to become rather familiar with their appearance.

He really hoped that wasn't an omen for the rest of his time as a marine.

Still, once his sight had adjusted to the strong lighting and the sterile white walls, he began to make out more details. Firstly, he was in a private room, which meant that the ward was much bigger than any ship-board Medical bay could afford to be, even the one on the _Einstein_ couldn't afford separate rooms for its patients. That meant he was either on a station or a planet, but the faint, familiar hum of a Mass Effect Core implied the former. Secondly, he was hooked up to quite a few machines and even more Intravenous Drips. Thirdly, he still couldn't open his other eye.

Willing his numb arm to move in an attempt to get some feeling back into it, he eventually managed to direct it, gently, towards his aching face and recalcitrant eye. At first all he could feel was heavy gauze and the cool, comforting press of medi-gel; then came the pain.

Fire ripped up the left-hand side of his face as the dull ache became an intense throbbing that forced all other thoughts out of his mind. As the immediate intensity of the pain began to drop it was like a portion of his memory had been unlocked and the events of Akuze came flooding back; the loss of the _Gallipoli_ , Toombs, Jenson and Gibson, all of the other marines, and finally his own injury.

He bolted upright and the screaming of the machines next to him echoed his racing pulse as another wave of pain hit him, this time from his torso. Doctors began to rush in and surround him as he writhed on his bed until darkness began to claim his sight once more.

* * *

 **Arcturus Station, Barton Medical Clinic (October 25, 2177, 1815 hours, Station Time):**

The next time he awoke, it was much more carefully, with full remembrance of his injuries. He was still in the same room, but he didn't feel quite so weak this time; not as numb either, unfortunately, if the sharp aches and twinges of pain across his body were anything to go by.

Not wanting a repeat of the last time he had tried to sit up, he reached for the nearby bed controls and adjusted it until he was at least sitting slightly up. Next he looked for the call button, but almost as if just thinking about it had summoned her, one of the doctors, a dark skinned, dark haired woman in her mid-forties walked through the doorway, followed by a pair of nurses.

"Good to see you're awake again, Lieutenant, and in less pain this time. My name is Dr. Du Plessis and I'm in charge of your care while you're here I know it's a pretty standard question, but how are you feeling?" The doctor asked as the nurses busied themselves with his IV's and waste bags.

"I've been better," he replied honestly, surprised at how painful his voice was to use.

"Huh, you really must be green; normally I have to spend fifteen minutes trying to explain to you soldier types that 'I'm fine' isn't a valid response when they've got more holes in them than a colander. I'll go get you a drink of water and then I need to ask you a few more questions, I'm sure you've been through this process before."

Shepard nodded in agreement and laid back as the doctor left, soon followed by nurses once they'd finished their various jobs. Taking the opportunity to actually assess how he felt, he found that beyond the general muscle weakness and raspy throat his torso itched and burned in random places along with portions of his legs, his ribs felt extremely sensitive to movement and his face still throbbed and ached.

All in all, he wasn't feeling so great.

Dr. Du Plessis came back soon after his little analysis and John gratefully accepted the provided water, letting the cool liquid soothe his parched throat.

"Now then Lieutenant, are you experiencing any nausea?"

He shook his head.

"Good, how about numbness or paralysis?"

"I felt a little numb when I woke up, but it's all gone now," he stated. The doctor made a note on her omni-tool.

"Any sudden or intense pain?" She asked.

"Just around the ribs on my right side."

"Not surprising since you managed to break three of them. What about headaches? Any memory loss or fuzziness of thought?"

Shepard considered it for a moment, trying to see if there were any gaps in his memory, but it seemed that, rather unfortunately, he recalled everything up until he blacked out.

"No, nothing like that, just a bit of throbbing here," he said, gesturing to the heavily bandaged side of his face.

"I see, we'll have to do some more tests to be certain, but… well it seems you're in remarkably good condition considering the extent of your injuries and the time lost before treatment, particularly if you escaped without any brain damage," the doctor stated as she made a few more notes on her tool. "Now do you have any questions you want to ask?"

His first and most pressing question was obvious.

"Did any of the other marines survive?"

"I couldn't honestly tell you, but we are treating a couple of other marines with injuries that are similar, if less severe, than yours. When we're finished here and if you're feeling up to it, you have a visitor who I imagine could give you a proper answer. Is there anything else you wanted to know?"

But John was still trying to process the doctor's response. At best, it meant that nearly the entire platoon had been wiped out. He had known the situation was FUBAR before he lost consciousness, but the prospect of losing almost everyone… he suddenly began to feel rather nauseous.

Noticing the signs, Dr. Du Plessis grabbed a nausea bag and shoved it in front of him just in time, as his empty stomach spasmed violently, forcing caustic bile out while also contracting painfully on his broken ribs and turning the mild burning on his skin into a thousand needles piercing his flesh.

When it was finished, he collapsed backwards, on the verge of hyperventilating from the pain, as his ribs hurt too much to take full breaths.

"Lieutenant, I need you to calm down. I know it hurts and I'm going to give you another dose of pain medication to help with that, but if you don't get control of your breathing you're going to pass out again and I'm not sure how much more oxygen deprivation your brain can take at this point, so I need you to _calm down_."

Slowly, Shepard could feel the pain lessening and the rigid muscles in his abdomen relax somewhat. Eventually, his breathing began to even out.

"Alright, that's better. Now, I've given you a muscle relaxant and I'm about to give you a general anaesthetic because you need to rest after that last episode, but when you wake up again, just hit that call button on the panel to your right and I'll come and check on you," and with that she pressed another button on his IV interface, and John began to feel quite sleepy…

* * *

Once she was sure that the lieutenant was well under and that there were no more complications, Dr. Du Plessis made her way down to his waiting visitor to tell him he would have to come back another day.

Spying the strongly built afro-european man in the waiting room, which wasn't a hard feat given his Alliance uniform and military bearing, she greeted him with a handshake as he rose from his seat.

"Hello Commander, I'm afraid you will have to re-schedule a time to visit Lieutenant Shepard. He is doing quite well, all things considered, but he just underwent a sudden bout of nausea, which in turn triggered his other injuries, to the point that I thought it best to give him a light sedative so he could have a chance to recover. You'll probably have to return tomorrow if you want to see him."

"Of course, though I would ask that you contact me when he does wake up. In the meantime, what's his prognosis?" The Commander asked in a smooth baritone.

"Very good, exceptional actually, considering the report from your Chief Medical Officer about his original state. He shows no sign of permanent brain damage or memory loss, the broken ribs are trivial to repair and they didn't puncture any organs, the skin grafts to cover the acid burns are taking well and your CMO's work almost certainly saved his eye; so far there's no sign of infection and while we'll have to wait for the bandages to come off to really see how it's going, there are strong odds that some minor laser corrective surgery will be all that's needed to return his vision to what it was. Worst case scenario is some cybernetic augmentation, but that's unlikely, the wound was shallow and didn't damage the retina or optic nerve. I'd say he could be released within a week, depending on the psychological evaluation."

"Well that certainly sounds promising, but what about that nausea you mentioned before, any idea what might have caused it?"

"I think it was probably stress or anxiety, he'd just asked me if any other marines had survived. I had no idea, but I told him that there were a couple of other marines being treated as well, then he started vomiting. Do you have any idea why he reacted so strongly? I've treated a lot of soldiers, and none of them have had such a violently sudden response to the loss of some of their squad."

"That would be because Lieutenant Shepard did not just lose some of his squad; that man up there is the last survivor of his entire platoon and I think the reality of his experience just caught up with him."

The doctor was stunned, she had had no idea the situation had been so horrific.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It was an honest mistake, doctor," the man interrupted with a raised hand, "just... tell me when he wakes up again, he'll have a lot of questions that need to be answered."


	9. Chapter 8: Or Perhaps Pieces

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.

* * *

 **Redemption: Come What May**

 **Chapter 8: ... Or Perhaps Pieces**

* * *

The doctor responded quickly when Shepard finally woke up again, running through the standard battery of tests and questions before declaring that he was doing rather well. She also said that he had a visitor.

John had expected an Alliance Intelligence & Security Agent or, if he was abnormally lucky, his mum, if she had managed to get leave. What he was not expecting, however, was for a living legend to be his 'visitor'.

Commander David Anderson was one of the original N7's and gained 'hero' status during the First Contact War, when he was no more than twenty and a newly minted Second Lieutenant, due to his skill and leadership of his squad during operations that were pivotal in Shanxi's liberation. His actions in the twenty years since then had made him a legend, even though the details of most of those missions would never be made known. He was, to this day, held up as the paragon of the N program, the ideal that all prospective Special Forces Soldiers should be aiming for, and it was a running joke amongst the other N-schoolers that if he melted down all of his medals he could make a life-size statue of himself, with material to spare.

The tall, dark-skinned officer stepped into the room with an easy grace that only came from a unique type of confidence; a tested, hardened confidence in your own abilities. The harsher and more weathered lines of his face were the only thing that differentiated the man in front of him from the numerous vids and images he'd seen of him over the years, and as soon as he had overcome his shock, John whipped his hand up in a salute, trying to hide the grimace his still healing ribs caused.

"Easy Lieutenant, you're in no shape to worrying about saluting," Commander Anderson said, speaking in a smooth baritone, "hell, the doctors tell me you shouldn't even be alive. Considering all you went through on Akuze I'm not surprised; my marines couldn't believe you were still breathing when they found you."

Shepard let his arm return to the far more comfortable position by his side at the Commander's words.

"How are you feeling, son? I wanted to give you a chance to ask any questions you might have before Intel debriefs you. You've been out cold for nearly a week so I figured it couldn't hurt to let you get your bearings," The Commander said as he pulled up a chair near the bed and sat down.

Shepard was still trying to process that all this was happening but he managed to collect his wits enough to reply.

"Thank you Sir, that's very generous of you, Sir."

This seemed to amuse the Commander a little, if the quirked eyebrow and twitch of the lips was anything to go by.

"I suppose I should tell you now, you're on indefinite medical leave until you have been judged to have recovered sufficiently from your wounds yadda yadda, you know how it works. So for all intents and purposes, I'm not your superior officer at the moment, so you can drop the formality," he explained with a flippancy that surprised John almost as much as his actual presence. "Now, I imagine there are some questions you'd like to ask, so out with it."

The chance for answers overwhelmed Shepard's confusion and hesitance at talking to the man before him and before he realised what he was doing, the question had left his lips.

"What happened to the other Marines, and the rest of my squad?"

"I'm sorry son," Anderson said with a weary sigh that immediately confirmed John's worst fears, "but they are all dead or MIA, presumed KIA. You're the only one we found alive when we arrived at the colony."

"I see…" Shepard replied quietly, try (and failing) to take in the complete loss of the platoon. "And the crew of the _Gallipoli_?"

"Also dead or MIA, we haven't had a chance to do a proper accounting because of the threat that the Thresher Maws pose, but the ship is a total loss."

There was a long pause before Shepard spoke again.

"Sir, if I may, how am I…"

"How are you alive?" Shepard nodded, so the Commander continued, "I was leading the main force so when Intel relayed your update about the Thresher Maws. I prepped a couple of squads for rescue and recovery and your suit's telemetry led them to you. Their medic said you'd lost a lot of blood and that your vitals were all over the place. They managed to free you from the wreckage and stabilise your condition enough to get you back on the ship. They also recovered some of the bodies of the other marines and returned to the _SSV Beijing_. That was five days ago and now you're on Arcturus Station, in the Barton Medical Centre. The doctors say you're lucky to be alive, apparently you were hypovolemic after losing almost a litre of blood, your heart had been fibrillating and the shock from the damage to your body combined with the amount of Adrenaline they had to filter out…" Anderson shook his head in disbelief, "basically you should have been dead four times over, yet here you are."

That was a lot to take in, especially with everything else on top and John was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. Anderson must have sensed it as well as he stood to leave, but there was still one more thing John needed to ask.

"Sir, there's one more thing. Just before I lost consciousness I tried to reach one of my men, Corporal Toombs, but he was killed before I could get to him."

"I'm sorry to hear that…" Anderson began but Shepard kept speaking, his brow creased and voice flat.

"I reached out my hand for him, even though I knew I couldn't reach him. But then my hand…shimmered and my head and spine felt like it was on fire. I don't… I don't understand what it was."

The Commander's brow furrowed as he thought, looking almost as lost as John felt, before his eyes widened fractionally in a flash of recognition, which disappeared from his face just as quickly. After another moment's consideration, he turned back to Shepard.

"I don't know what that could be; maybe your eyes lost focus for a bit because of the stress or adrenaline? I'll ask the doctors, see if they know anything. If there's nothing else, I'll let you get back to recuperating."

"Nothing more, Sir. Thank you for filling me in."

Anderson nodded in reply and exited the room, leaving Shepard to his own thoughts.

* * *

At that point in time, the last thing Shepard wanted was to be left alone with his thoughts, but at the same time he knew he had to face them eventually.

That knowledge didn't help him deal with the flood of memories, questions and hypothetical scenarios that rushed to the front of his mind as soon as he let his guard down, however. He lay in the hospital bed, his good eye squeezed shut and his face contorted in pain at the mental anguish he was suffering at the hands of the accusing memories.

As far as medical science had advanced since the discovery of the Prothean Archive on Mars, there wasn't a pain killer in the galaxy that worked on psychological pain. Shepard couldn't escape being trapped by his own thoughts as he slowly began to heal and recover, with only the occasional check-up or visit to give him something to distract himself with. In between those times he tried to regain control of his mind, trying to comprehend the twist of fate that had left him alive but the rest of his platoon dead.

He rarely succeeded.

* * *

Commander Anderson watched the young Lieutenant through the window to his room as his face grimaced in pain, which caused his wounds to flare up, which only served to further increase his pain.

Shepard had been kept under observation for two weeks, though he was physically healthy enough to be released. He was being kept under observation for his mental health, due to the incredibly stressful nature of the events of Akuze; and what they had seen did not bode well.

He was showing many of the classic symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; nightmares, hypervigilance, Survivor's Guilt, flash-backs.

Anderson hated seeing soldiers lost to their own minds; he'd seen too many good men and women survive harrowing battles only to lose the fight with the enemy in their own head as the pain and trauma of their experiences overwhelmed them. He didn't want to lose this one too, but in the end it all came down to the Lieutenant.

He took another look over Shepard's service history; it wasn't long, having signed up with the Marines only eighteen months ago, but what was there was impressive. Before even being admitted, he had a string of recommendations from marines aboard ships he had lived on while his Mother was on duty. He had graduated top of his class from Officer Candidacy and was granted the rank of 1st Lieutenant. He immediately enrolled in the Special Forces or 'N' vocational line and again showed himself to be quite capable, completing the N2 course and graduating third, which earned him an instant N3 commendation, in which he was due to partake in a month's time. He had been in combat twice prior to Akuze; one had been a small skirmish with a raiding party in the Skyllian Verge while the other had been Operation Sonic, a coordinated simultaneous raid on six known pirate bases inside Alliance Space. There were no casualties reported for any of the men under his command and both missions had been highly successful.

In short, Shepard showed some impressive potential, but it would all be irrelevant if he couldn't overcome his newly diagnosed PTSD. Silently hoping that this one wouldn't go the same way as so many before him, Anderson entered the room once more.

"Good news Lieutenant, the doctors say you're healed up and ready to go…" Anderson began.

"But?" Shepard said, catching the trailing edge of the half statement.

"…But there's a complication. Physically you're fine; you should only have some light scarring and your vision shouldn't be affected. Mentally however, they're concerned about you. You've been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and that leaves us in a difficult position. The Alliance can't have marines who might be a liability in combat and PTSD can very easily turn into a liability. Now, the Alliance has a program to rehabilitate soldiers affected by PTSD and it can generally be managed almost completely now days, but they will also allow individuals back into the marines if they can show that they have a hold on their condition. You have a choice before you now Lieutenant, and neither is an easy road. I'll leave you alone to make your decision, but you'll be released in two days' time and I need to know by then."

Still watching the Lieutenant, Anderson stood up and placed a data pad containing the information about both decisions on the bedside table, before leaving the room.

John picked up the pad and skimmed over the information. He could hardly argue with diagnosis, the information given practically read like a summary of his mental state for the last two weeks.

Reading further, he found the information regarding the Alliance funded rehabilitation. In short it involved an honourable discharge, a respectable pension and being set up on a colony world somewhere with regular support for his condition, but he would be unable to re-join the Alliance. Overall, it sounded pretty good really, but Shepard couldn't help but wonder what he'd do with the rest of his life. Apparently PTSD can be effectively managed to the point where it is almost a non-issue in everyday life, but being a marine was all that Shepard had ever planned for. If he went this route he would have given up on his dream career before he was even twenty!

That left the other option, controlling his condition and getting back to business as quickly as possible. It seemed that a significant number of marines currently in service, particularly in the Special Forces programs, had some sort of traumatic psychological event that had affected them, but they had been accepted back because they showed it could be controlled. It would be a more difficult road, and if he couldn't control it he ran the risk of being dishonourably discharged, getting none of the benefits or help that the rehabilitation provided, but he could keep being a soldier if he succeeded and he could stop things like Akuze happening again.

It wasn't much of a decision really, he was not going to waste this chance that had been provided to him; no one else would go through what he had if it could be helped.

* * *

 **[AN: What's this, an update?!**

 **Yes, it's true, I've started writing again after far to long a break caused by various factors.**

 **Really, I have no real excuse or explanation to give, so I will simply state that I _am_ going to finish all of my stories, eventually, one way or the other. /AN]**


End file.
